Kim Cheezum Prays for Chick-fil-A as My Dad Starves to Death

Kim Cheezum, Kimberly Cheezum, Kim Bredfeldt, Mrs. Jeremy Cheezum, Trinity Reformed Presbyterian Church, Trinity Montrose, TRPC, Montrose CO, Kim Cheezum, Kim Cheezum Pomona Elementary, Kimberly Cheezum Pomona Elementary, Jeremy Cheezum, Pastor Jeremy Cheezum, Rev Jeremy Cheezum

Kim Cheezum

This post briefly marvels at the callous indifference of people who support lies that tear lives apart.

For the benefit of the reader, the subject of this post, Kimberly Cheezum, wife of Presbyterian pastor Jeremy Cheezum, is the sister of a man, Phil Bredfelt, who, in conjunction with his wife, serially prosecuted the writer from 2006–2018 claiming abuses that ranged from harassment to sexual assault and violent danger. All were the false concoctions of a married woman desperate to hide that she had indulged what might be characterized as a pang in her pants, and all of the allegations were eventually dismissed.

In the last round of prosecutions, Kim Cheezum’s dad, Dr. Ray Bredfeldt, M.D., a Presbyterian deacon, meant to join his son and daughter-in-law in the fun, but proceedings were suspended before he had the chance.

That was in 2016, which is the year this post concerns. At the time, the writer had maintained this blog about false accusation and abused and abusive civil court procedures every day for five years, which Kim Cheezum couldn’t help but have known only too well.


Kim Cheezum, the author of the Facebook entreaty above, teaches children (“!!!!”) at Pomona Elementary in Montrose, Colorado.

Having been out of court for a year, I’ve had a chance to review the whos and whys and whens and whats of a legal matter that chewed up a quarter of my life (and in the fullness of time will probably prove to have shortened that life besides impoverished it).

Above is an image from Facebook. It’s a request from Kim Cheezum, sister of one of my accusers, Phil Bredfeldt, and sister-in-law of the other, Tiffany Bredfeldt, that the restaurant chain Chick-fil-A please come open a franchise in her hometown of Montrose, Colorado, where her husband, Jeremy Cheezum, is a Presbyterian pastor (Trinity Reformed Presbyterian Church).

Jeremy Cheezum, Pastor Jeremy Cheezum, Rev Jeremy Cheezum, Montrose High School, Kim Cheezum, Kimberly Cheezum

Jeremy Cheezum, in the glow of health, shown in place my father, who starved to death while Cheezum and his wife’s family sought my false imprisonment and whose appearance in his final days, gaunt and ravaged as it was, would horrify the viewer

Noteworthy in this context is that I had applied to Rev. Cheezum and several of his peers for help with gaining relief from Tiffany Bredfeldt’s false accusations many years before.

At the time Kim Cheezum posted her request on Facebook, then, I had been lied about for 10 years, had informed her family that I’d been lied about, had asked for her husband’s help, and had maintained a blog for five years denouncing false accusation.

In March of 2016, I was served papers (while I was in court responding to a separate prosecution by one of their stooges) informing me that after having already been forced to live in the shadow of Kim Cheezum’s family’s lies for a decade that her brother, her sister-in-law, and her father were seeking my imprisonment.

Why? For reporting those lies, lies that would be glaringly obscene to a child.

A month earlier, February 2016, while the lawsuit was being carefully typed up by one of the family’s sleazy lawyers, what was on Kim Cheezum’s mind? Her stomach.

About seven months into the 2016 prosecution, my father succumbed to cancer by starving to death after years that were diminished by Kim Cheezum’s family’s self-indulgent lies and games.

I’m a vegetarian. My dad wasn’t. If he weren’t dead, he would probably have liked to have Chick-fil-A, too.

Copyright © 2019 RestrainingOrderAbuse.com

Christ Church’s Sara Rojas Part of 11 Years of Lying and Abuse

The text of this post is based on an earlier one originally titled, “Uncle Phil Said He’s a SICK F–K.” That phrase was one I was labeled with in a document submitted to the police by the brother of Sara (Bredfeldt) Rojas, a staff member of Christ Church Milwaukee, whose two children are the inspiration of this post. Those children’s aunt, uncle, and grandfather, who are today prohibited by mandate of the court from harassing me further, endeavored to have me imprisoned based on false, filthy, and/or frivolous allegations. They employed unscrupulous attorneys and exploited laws that are typically criticized by conservatives as destructive to the family, conservatives, it’s worth noting, like those of Christ Church Milwaukee’s evangelical Christian congregation. Conservatives criticize the laws for good reason: While advocates of these laws pay lip service to child welfare, children are arguably the predominant victims of the laws’ commonplace abuse. Among the ways children are damaged is exposure to the twisted games that self-indulgent adults play.


This message was communicated to me by email on the first day of what would become 12 years of legal harassment by the aunt and uncle of the children who inspired this post. Their uncle Phil I had never met. Their auntie Tiffany I knew better than I ever should have. She had nightly lingered outside of my house for months and taunted me with references to her body and underwear, apparently relishing the attention. Then she lied to the police and the court to conceal her misconduct when I learned she was married and demanded an explanation—and she has lied over and over since (as testimony I’ve included below shows plainly). The message above was sent after Phil and Tiffany Bredfeldt had obtained a court injunction forbidding me from responding to it. Sort of like a four-letter nyah-nyah. The couple thought it would be cute to send a copy of the message to the police, apparently to reinforce the idea that they were afraid for their lives (because why wouldn’t you provoke someone you were afraid of?). I was an aspirant kids’ writer with a puppy and a parent in chemotherapy. Maybe the spoiled brats thought that was funny also.

I was most recently prosecuted by liars in 2016. What made that year different—and what made this publication possible—was that the liars sought my imprisonment (to cover up lies), and I requested and was granted court-appointed representation.

What’s more, the attorneys I was granted were excellent. Allegations spread across multiple prosecutions were thrown out in their entirety.

Maybe I have divine intervention to thank. To be certain, the God of the Bible despises bullies, especially rich, self-satisfied ones, which is what this post is about.

Like many or most of those who visit this site and identify with its accounts and criticisms of false accusation and abused and abusive laws, I’ve been lied about a lot and for a long time, and the lies probably continue today.

I have no way of knowing.

What I do know, because I know I’ve been monitored for as long as I’ve been lied about, is that there’s no one I’ve appealed to for help over the years who can possibly be unaware of the truth today.

Sara Rojas, Mrs. Roberto Rojas, Sara Bredfeldt, Sara Bredfeldt Rojas, Pastor Jon Talley, Rev Jon Talley, Jon Talley, Christ Church Milwaukee

Sara Rojas, daughter of a doctor, wife of a doctor, who has lived a privileged life while ignoring her family’s corruption of others’

That includes Sara Rojas, today children’s and women’s ministries coordinator of Christ Church Milwaukee under Rev. Jon Talley. If mention of the church attracts any of his congregants to this post and site, so much the better, because I think they’re exactly the kind of forthrightly ethical people who are offended by the excesses of feminism and #MeToo movementeers.

I appealed several times to Mrs. Rojas for aid in gaining relief from persistent false accusations made by her brother’s wife, Tiffany Bredfeldt. I reasoned a woman whose father and husband were doctors would appreciate the harm such behavior could cause, and I reasoned, wrongly, that she would care or that her Christian conscience would bid her to.

Not only did I never hear from her, but her father, Dr. Ray Bredfeldt, a Presbyterian deacon who got rich flacking health insurance, volunteered to testify in court eight years later to have me jailed while my father lay dying and to have me forbidden, besides, from ever sharing the truth with anyone in any way for the rest of my own life. He wasted his time and years more of mine.

I had also appealed to Mrs. Rojas’s brother-in-law, Jeremy Cheezum, who, like Rev. Jon Talley, whose congregation Mrs. Rojas serves, is a Presbyterian minister, which seemed like an ideal person to negotiate a remediation. I never heard from Rev. Cheezum, either. I had told him that cleaning up Auntie Tiffany’s lies would be costly and that those lies had left me in no position to foot the bill. This “devout” Christian family represented my settlement appeals as extortion to the court. The allegation was baseless, and it was abandoned when I declined to be intimidated and submit to their terms.

Their terms boiled down to disappear and die.

Here’s a synopsis of statements Christiano Rojas and Maria Rojas’s aunt gave in evidence to the court or, in one instance, to the police only between 2006 and 2017. The story they tell isn’t the half of it, but it’s succinct, and its contradictions are palpable. The children’s aunt has lied impulsively, randomly, and wickedly and then lied to conceal the lying, and I have lived in the shadow of those lies every minute of every day since they began, while Sara Rojas has reared two beautiful children and enjoyed “spending time outdoors with her family and cooking up new recipes in her kitchen.” (The children’s uncle Philip, Mrs. Rojas’s brother, was incidentally privy to all of these statements and has supported them fully, including under oath.)




Dr Roberto Rojas, Aurora St Lukes, Roberto Rojas MD, Pastor Jon Talley, Rev Jon Talley, Jon Talley, Christ Church Milwaukee







Jeremy Cheezum, Ray Bredfeldt, Roberto Rojas MD, Dr. Roberto Rojas, Aurora St Lukes, Pastor Jon Talley, Rev Jon Talley, Jon Talley, Christ Church Milwaukee


Tiffany Bredfeldt, Jeremy Cheezum, Ray Bredfeldt, Dr. Roberto Rojas, Roberto Rojas MD, Aurora St Lukes, Pastor Jon Talley, Rev Jon Talley, Jon Talley, Christ Church Milwaukee


People of moral character might call the woman a crackpot, a Jezebel, a monster, or a pageant of much coarser things. What they couldn’t call the woman is a victim.

Jeremy Cheezum, Rev. Jeremy Cheezum, Pastor Jeremy Cheezum, Trinity Montrose, TRPC, Trinity Reformed Presbyterian Church, Kim Cheezum, Fletcher Cheezum, Bailey Cheezum, Logan Cheezum, PCA, Presbyterian Church in America, Pastor Jon Talley, Rev Jon Talley, Jon Talley, Christ Church Milwaukee

So Rev. Jeremy Cheezum, Sara Rojas’s brother-in-law, tells his followers at Trinity Reformed Presbyterian Church in Montrose, Colorado, and I think Sara would say she agrees with the directive. The message their children register, however, may be very different: Do what you want. Don’t get caught. Lie. Wealthy people love you. Nothing else matters.

I’ve never met Sara Rojas or her kids. The children, however, I pity, because I don’t think this conduct is a kind that should be role-modeled, and I think a children’s and women’s ministries coordinator should be particularly sensitive to that. Some might consider deceiving law enforcement officials and judges against the law.

Mrs. Rojas and her husband, Dr. Roberto F. Rojas, an M.D. at Aurora St. Luke’s Medical Center, have seemed cool with it, and to me that’s worse role-modeling yet. Mrs. Rojas’s father, moreover, Grampa Bredfeldt, is presumably a cherished figure in her children’s lives, and he’s a man who sought to have another man his family had already wronged for 10 years gagged and locked in a concrete box to save face and what I think is most precious to this family: money.

A woman Grampa Bredfeldt was scheduled to testify with in 2016 had characterized his daughter-in-law’s behavior toward me this way:

Jeremy Cheezum, Rev. Jeremy Cheezum, Pastor Jeremy Cheezum, Tiffany Bredfeldt PhD, Dr. Tiffany Bredfeldt, Pastor Jon Talley, Rev Jon Talley, Jon Talley, Christ Church Milwaukee

The email containing the woman’s remarks has been online since the beginning of last year and is presumably known to Dr. and Mrs. Rojas, whose denomination, the Presbyterian Church in America, asserts:

Godliness is founded on truth. A test of truth is its power to promote holiness according to our Saviour’s rule, “By their fruits ye shall know them” (Matthew 7:20). No opinion can be more pernicious…than that which brings truth and falsehood upon the same level.

By the church’s own standard, Sara Rojas and her family’s fruits are rotten.

Pastor Jon Talley, Rev Jon Talley, Jon Talley, Christ Church Milwaukee

I’m reminded of a Biblical quotation about whited sepulchers, and some readers of this post may be too.

Copyright © 2019 RestrainingOrderAbuse.com

*My father starved to death in 2016, without dignity or grandchildren, alone in a cramped room in a cut-rate nursing home, while the latest series of prosecutions brought or motivated by the family this post concerns was raging. I spent the last night of my dad’s life preoccupied with another family’s shit. These people have allowed their disease to corrupt and diminish others’ lives for almost 14 years.

Jeremy Cheezum Complicit in 11 Years of Lying, Abuse

This post was formerly titled, “Uncle Phil Said He’s a SICK F–K.” That phrase was one I was labeled with in a document submitted to the police by the brother-in-law of “Rev.” Jeremy Cheezum, whose four children are the inspiration of this post. Those children’s aunt, uncle, and grandfather, who are today prohibited by mandate of the court from harassing me further, endeavored to have me imprisoned based on false, filthy, and/or frivolous allegations. They employed unscrupulous attorneys and exploited laws that are typically criticized by conservatives as destructive to the family, conservatives, it’s worth noting, like those of Pastor Cheezum’s evangelical Christian congregation, which Montrose Mirror columnist Gail Marvel has reported is mostly “young families with children.” Conservatives criticize the laws for good reason: While advocates of these laws pay lip service to child welfare, children are arguably the predominant victims of the laws’ commonplace abuse. Among the ways children are damaged is exposure to the twisted games that self-indulgent adults play.


This message was communicated to me by email on the first day of what would become 12 years of legal harassment by the aunt and uncle of the children who inspired this post. Their uncle Phil I had never met. Their auntie Tiffany I knew better than I ever should have. She had nightly lingered outside of my house for months and taunted me with references to her body and underwear, apparently relishing the attention. Then she lied to the police and the court to conceal her misconduct when I learned she was married and demanded an explanation—and she has lied over and over since (as testimony I’ve included below shows plainly). The message above was sent after Phil and Tiffany Bredfeldt had obtained a court injunction forbidding me from responding to it. Sort of like a four-letter nyah-nyah. The couple thought it would be cute to send a copy of the message to the police, apparently to reinforce the idea that they were afraid for their lives (because why wouldn’t you provoke someone you were afraid of?). I was an aspirant kids’ writer with a puppy and a parent in chemotherapy. Maybe the spoiled brats thought that was funny also.

Like many or most of those who visit this site and identify with its accounts and criticisms of false accusation and abused and abusive laws, I’ve been lied about a lot and for a long time, and the lies may continue today.

I have no way of knowing.

What I do know, because I know I’ve been monitored for as long as I’ve been lied about, is that there’s no one I’ve appealed to for help over the years who can possibly be unaware of the truth today.

Jeremy Cheezum, Counselor Jeremy Cheezum, Innovation at Work Interview with Jeremy Cheezum, Rev. Jeremy Cheezum, Pastor Jeremy Cheezum, Watch D.O.G.S., Watch Dads of Great Students, Trinity Montrose, TRPC, Trinity Reformed Presbyterian Church, Montrose, Kimberly Cheezum, Kim Cheezum, PCA, Presbyterian Church in America, Rocky Mountain Presbytery, Ray Bredfeldt, Ruth Bredfeldt, Trinity Presbyterian Church, Montrose High School, Olathe High School, Peak Academy

Above, in an interview with InSync Media CEO Laura Williams, Jeremy Cheezum, pastor of Trinity Reformed Presbyterian Church in Montrose, Colorado, and “volunteer coordinator” of an elementary school mentoring program called Watch D.O.G.S. (“Watch Dads of Great Students”) jokingly clarifies the program’s requirement of a background check for participation. Thanks to Rev. Cheezum’s family’s sleaze, it’s uncertain the author of this post would pass such a check. Rev. Cheezum’s church hosts a weekly “Men’s Coffee Klatch.” This post’s contents could be mined for many rich topics of discussion, among them repentance and atonement, men’s and fathers’ rights, and spousal fidelity. Of note is that Rev. Cheezum, unlike his brother-in-law’s wife, actually wears his wedding ring.

That includes Jeremy Cheezum, today minister of Trinity Reformed Presbyterian Church (TRPC) in Montrose, Colorado. If mention of his name attracts any of his congregants to this post and site, so much the better, because I think they’re exactly the kind of forthrightly ethical people who are offended by the excesses of feminism and #MeToo movementeers.

I appealed several times to Rev. Cheezum for aid in gaining relief from persistent false accusations made by his brother-in-law’s wife, Tiffany Bredfeldt. I reckoned a pastor, a person who might well identify himself as an evangelist of truth, would be eager to serve the truth and promote peace.

Not only did I never hear from him, but his wife’s father, Dr. Ray Bredfeldt, a Presbyterian deacon who got rich flacking health insurance, volunteered to testify in court five years later to have me jailed while my father lay dying and to have me forbidden, besides, from ever sharing the truth with anyone in any way for the rest of my own life. He wasted his time and years more of mine.

In my appeals to Pastor Cheezum, I had told him that cleaning up Auntie Tiffany’s lies would be costly and that those lies had left me in no position to foot the bill. The good reverend passed my appeals along to his in-laws whose shyster lawyers represented them to the court as extortion (and threatened a felony prosecution in federal court). The allegation was baseless, and it was abandoned when I declined to be intimidated and submit to their terms.

Their terms boiled down to disappear and die.

Here’s a synopsis of statements Fletcher Cheezum, Bailey Cheezum, (Philip) Logan Cheezum, and Lydia Cheezum’s aunt gave in evidence to the court or, in one instance, to the police only between 2006 and 2017. The story they tell isn’t the half of it, but it’s succinct, and its contradictions are palpable. The children’s aunt has lied impulsively, randomly, and wickedly and then lied to conceal the lying. (The children’s uncle Philip, Rev. Cheezum’s brother-in-law, after whom one of the kids may be named, was incidentally privy to all of these statements and has supported them fully, including under oath.)












People of moral character might call the woman a crackpot, a Jezebel, a monster, or a pageant of much coarser things. What they couldn’t call the woman is a victim.

Jeremy Cheezum, Trinity Montrose, PCA, Presbyterian Church in America, Colorado, Trinity Reformed Presbyterian Church, Pastor Jeremy Cheezum, Rev. Jeremy Cheezum

So Jeremy Cheezum tells his followers. The message his children register, however, may be very different: Do what you want. Don’t get caught. Lie. Wealthy people love you. Nothing else matters.

I’ve never met Rev. Cheezum or his kids. The children, however, I pity, because I don’t think this conduct is a kind that should be role-modeled. Some might consider deceiving law enforcement officials and judges against the law.

Rev. Cheezum and his wife, Kim, an elementary school teacher, have seemed cool with it, and to me that’s worse role-modeling yet. And what a simple Google search suggests is that their kids spend a lot of time with Grampa Bredfeldt, a man who sought to have me shut up and locked away to save face and expense (but who probably supports the Cheezums generously—both in church and out of it).

A woman Grampa Bredfeldt was scheduled to testify with in 2016 had characterized his daughter-in-law’s behavior toward me this way:

The email containing the woman’s remarks has been online since the beginning of last year and is presumably known to Rev. Cheezum, whose denomination, the Presbyterian Church in America, asserts:

Godliness is founded on truth. A test of truth is its power to promote holiness according to our Saviour’s rule, “By their fruits ye shall know them” (Matthew 7:20). No opinion can be more pernicious…than that which brings truth and falsehood upon the same level.

By the church’s own standard, Jeremy Cheezum and his family’s fruits are rotten.

I’m reminded of a Biblical quotation about whited sepulchers, and some readers of this post may be too.

Copyright © 2019 RestrainingOrderAbuse.com

*My father starved to death in 2016, without dignity or grandchildren, alone in a cramped room in a cut-rate nursing home, while the latest series of prosecutions brought or motivated by the family this post concerns was raging. I spent the last night of my dad’s life preoccupied with another family’s dysfunction. These people have allowed their disease to corrupt and diminish others’ lives for almost 14 years.

**My impression of Jeremy Cheezum’s reaction to this post (which may give him more credit than he deserves):

Jeremy Cheezum, Rev. Jeremy Cheezum, Pastor Jeremy Cheezum, Montrose High School, Olathe High School, Peak Academy, MontroseJeremy Cheezum, Rev. Jeremy Cheezum, Pastor Jeremy Cheezum, Montrose High School, Olathe High School, Peak Academy, MontroseJeremy Cheezum, Rev. Jeremy Cheezum, Pastor Jeremy Cheezum, Montrose High School, Olathe High School, Peak Academy, MontroseJeremy Cheezum, Rev. Jeremy Cheezum, Pastor Jeremy Cheezum, Montrose High School, Olathe High School, Peak Academy, MontroseJeremy Cheezum, Rev. Jeremy Cheezum, Pastor Jeremy Cheezum, Montrose High School, Olathe High School, Peak Academy, MontroseJeremy Cheezum, Rev. Jeremy Cheezum, Pastor Jeremy Cheezum, Montrose High School, Olathe High School, Peak Academy, Montrose

Ray Bredfeldt, Doctor and Deacon, Scorns God’s Law: A Consideration of the Biblical Commandment against False Witness

This post is inspired by Dr. Ray Bredfeldt, a physician who purports to be a man of faith. By means of one lowlife attorney and then a second equally unscrupulous one, whose conduct during a rape trial attained minor notoriety, Dr. Bredfeldt and his son and daughter-in-law sought to have me wrongfully imprisoned while my father lay dying (to conceal sins). The reader may conclude from these details that court process corrupts or that the corrupt are drawn to court process…but s/he may not conclude otherwise.


Ruth Bredfeldt, Ray Bredfeldt, Raymond C Bredfeldt, Dr Ray Bredfeldt, Dr Raymond Bredfeldt, Dr Raymond C Bredfeldt, Ray Bredfeldt MD, Raymond Bredfeldt MD, Raymond C Bredfeldt MD, Dr Raymond C Bredfeldt MD, Dr Ray Bredfeldt MD, Ray and Ruth Bredfeldt, Ruth and Ray Bredfeldt, Jeremy Cheezum, Pastor Jeremy Cheezum, Rev Jeremy Cheezum, Sara Rojas Christ Church, Kim Cheezum, Kimberly Cheezum, Montrose

Dr. Raymond Bredfeldt is an adherent of a religious sect called the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA), which seems to consider itself Christian while holding both that the Bible and its laws are to be interpreted literally and that believers are saved or damned before they’re born so how they actually behave in life doesn’t matter one way or the other. Three guesses where Dr. Bredfeldt reckons he’ll be hanging out in the afterlife. According to PCA doctrine, which has nothing to do with the Bible I’ve read, Hitler may be wearing wings and a halo. Presbyterianism, the reader may be unastonished to learn, was founded by a lawyer.

Today, in a dialogue dominated by #MeToo jihadists, voices denouncing false or unfounded accusation are as quickly overwhelmed as those of sanitation workers responding to a sewer explosion.

It’s accordingly kinda great to count God Almighty’s voice as an exception.

Not bad, either, is knowing that if He’s up there taking notes, which He’s reputed to be very meticulous about, the karma of false accusers stands to be more than just a bitch.

Think snap-crackle-pop, like, forever.

And that’s discounting the liberties demons might take when they’re bored and horny—which I would imagine is pretty much always.

Ray Bredfeldt, Raymond Bredfeldt, Ruth Bredfeldt, Presbyterian Church in America, Presbyterian Church in America PCASome of those who have or who had intended to witness against me in court, either to have me denied rights or to have me locked up, would know better than I, though.

They style themselves pious Christian souls—and I would wager that many people who’ve been falsely accused include the indifference of hypocrites like these in their litany of grievances.

In my case, take Dr. Michael Honeycutt, Ph.D., chairman of the EPA’s Science Advisory Boards, who identifies himself as a dedicated churchgoer. Although he’s never met me, Mike willingly testified against me in 2013 on behalf of his protégée, Tiffany Bredfeldt, a crackpot who harassed me for over a decade through law enforcement and the courts following a three-month association at my own home…where she was routinely to be found at night minus her wedding ring.

Or take Dr. Ray Bredfeldt, M.D. (“First, do no harm”). When the accusations against me by his daughter-in-law began in 2006, I recall reading he was a church deacon. I subsequently learned he and his wife, Ruth, hosted Bible study classes in their home and that their daughter Kim was married to Presbyterian pastor Jeremy Cheezum (who ignored my pleas for his help in mediating a settlement of the matter, pleas made fully eight years ago).

Here’s testimony Ray Bredfeldt’s daughter-in-law, Tiffany, gave in court during a 2013 hearing (that’s seven years after her accusations started):

null

Ray Bredfeldt’s family’s version of conservative Christianity differs considerably from the one I knew growing up. When I was a boy, there was no conceivable chance a married woman could be mistaken for single, least of all by a man she met and discussed her underwear with alone in the dark—unless she wanted to be. The word my Southern Baptist family would have used to characterize such a woman the reader will guess easily enough.

Ray’s daughter-in-law broadly accused me from 2006 to 2016 of “pursu[ing]” her, “proposition[ing]” her, trying to kiss her, and making “physical, romantic advances” toward her despite “rebuff[s]” and “rebuke[s]” based largely on a 12-week “friendship” in 2005 during which, by her own sworn admission, she never felt any urgent need to inform me she was married.

I don’t have to call her a liar; the contradictions are obvious and—and—they always were.

Reverend Ray was nonetheless prepared in 2016 (that’s 10 years later) to make sworn statements against me to have me jailed for a year and judicially forbidden (on pain of further incarceration) from ever sharing these contradictions with anyone in my defense. Because what would the neighbors think, right? Never mind, apparently, whether God might take a dim view of his daughter-in-law’s conduct…and his own.

Where Ray’s son, Phil Bredfeldt, was while his wife was indulging herself at my home in 2005 has incidentally never been explained. I don’t recall a single conversation I ever had with Tiffany Bredfeldt, including up to and past midnight, being interrupted by a phone call (“Uh, Honey, are you coming home?”). If Phil Bredfeldt is homosexual, that would explain a lot, both about his conduct and the keenness of his family’s interest in keeping up appearances.

At any rate, things didn’t ultimately work out the way they had envisioned. And Ray Bredfeldt’s son has apparently dumped his wife.

Telling to note in this context is that at the conclusion of the closest thing to a trial that ever occurred in 12 years of courthouse mischief, Tiffany Bredfeldt, herself the daughter of a fundamentalist evangelical Christian exclaimed, “God damn it.”

Well, here’s hoping, anyhow.

It turns out the Jews—at least once upon a time—appreciated false witness to be the grave and consequential trespass that it is, so much so that they ranked it a cardinal no-no. Yahweh’s even reported to have carved its prohibition in stone, which seems fairly emphatic. According to Proverbs (stresses added):

There are six things that the LORD strongly dislikes, seven that are an abomination to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that make haste to run to evil, a false witness who breathes out lies, and one who sows discord among brothers.

Witnesses in prosecutions may wear the same suit to court that they do to church. But in my experience of legal games, imperatives of the soul take a backseat in the courthouse to cardinal sins, like avarice and wrath, and avoiding blame in this life is the definite priority.

If the avowed faith of people like Ray Bredfeldt has the cosmic order of things right, though, escaping a court’s censure is only a very temporary reprieve from judgment.

Copyright © 2019 RestrainingOrderAbuse.com

*Jezebel, the millennial feminist house organ, which takes its name from a Biblical figure, tends to discount false accusation and its damages. The sophistical line of reasoning, demonstrated, for example, by Donna Zuckerberg in “He Said, She Said: The Mythical History of the False Rape Allegation,” conflates the phrase “false allegation” with “false rape allegation” and dismisses both collectively as extremely rare, apparently on the basis of the number of criminal allegations of rape that are determined to be untrue by, perhaps, the FBI. Rape allegations can, of course, be judged “worthy” by a court based on no standard of actual proof at all. (A rape claim made in a civil proceeding can be validated simply by default, for example, because a defendant was unable to travel cross-country on his own dime to appear in his defense. How often this happens is tabulated nowhere, though civil “protective order” cases are estimated to number in the millions per annum.) False accusation, what’s more, can include any number of ruinous claims other than sexual assault. False accusation can also be chronic. So mountainous is the political resistance to acknowledging it happens at all, it’s perpetrated with impunity. Ms. Zuckerberg surveys literary instances of false rape allegations, including Biblical ones, and finds grounds to deride them. A story she ignores is that of Jezebel, who amid a career of wickedness conspired to have a man falsely accused and stoned to death. His alleged crime was blasphemy, not rape. Jezebel was fittingly thrown from a window to become fodder for stray dogs—as today the tabloid website that bears her name is.

A Brief Reckoning of the Tolls of False Accusation Inspired by Liberals Who “Wonder,” What’s the Big Deal?

The word wonder in the title of this post is sleeved in quotation marks because the perspectives of self-styled “social justice advocates” aren’t those of critical thinkers but those of religious zealots. That people, particularly women, never lie about fear or abuse, and that even if they do (note the contradiction of the overarching tenet), there are no consequences to their deceits worthy of consideration—these are articles of faith. Liberal activists’ perspectives on these matters are as precognitive as any hive insect’s or rabid carnivore’s.


Dental imaging of the writer’s teeth (which are the least of the reasons why the doctor who is mentioned parenthetically below, Ray Bredfeldt, should burn in hell)

I went to the dentist for the first time in over a decade last week to be informed I grind my teeth in my sleep, and evidently have done for some while. This is among the possible consequences of chronic stress—to say nothing of, for example, cancer or heart disease or carelessly (or deliberately) wrapping your vehicle around a phone pole.

The dentist’s urgent recommendation was a full set of crowns, which he estimated would run me in the neighborhood of a “pretty good new car.” My own vehicle has in excess of 170,000 miles on it. I settled for a cleaning, which itself overextended my resources.

The hygienist was very professional. If she winced, I didn’t notice.

I was harassed through law enforcement and the courts for 12 years by some attention-seeking freaks I found hanging around my house, a house that now has termites in the ceiling, mice in the cupboards, and truly fascinating arachnid architecture spanning entire walls (all of it laden with dust). The parts of the exterior that haven’t literally fallen away are sloughing paint.

(Telling fact: Two of the witnesses slated to testify against me in 2016—in a case that began in 2013 and slogged on until July of 2018—are researchers in the field of human health, one of them a Ph.D. and Trump appointee to the EPA; a third is a retired M.D. and former columnist for a health insurance quarterly. This latter guy, Dr. Ray Bredfeldt, has almost certainly cautioned against the perils of stress, possibly making him the scabbiest of the lot. And count on it that if you met him you’d conclude he was a stalwart Samaritan and all-around swell fella. Also count on it that Mayday Ray would identify himself as my victim.)

I’ve tried to stanch the tide of decay during the six months since the last of the matters arising from the latest round of accusations leveled me concluded. Note: That case was the last of four initiated (or reinitiated) in 2016, and it featured a “Victim’s Impact Statement” (and the originating accusations began in 2006, with many more made in the interim “to the Court…[and] to multiple police departments, detectives, federal agencies, and other officials in several states,” which included to the FBI—and possibly NASA).

Some might say I prevailed. That’s semantics only.

I work as a manual laborer. I used to tutor kids (I’m an almost Ph.D. and probably always will be). But the chances I’ll ever apply for a job at Sylvan Learning Center or the like are today zero. I had aspired to publish humor commercially, and the likelihood of my recovering the clarity of mind, purpose, and environment that demands is scarcely better.

The residual taint of legal abuses, much of it digitized and preserved for posterity, is potent.

My father died two years ago in a “professional nursing facility.” To translate: He lay in bed, in a room he shared with a stranger, staring at the ceiling while he starved to death with a wad of cancer cells devouring his colon. I was meanwhile distracted by the looming threat of a year or so behind bars, which conclusion would only come after months of hearings…and filings…and trials. After a long night of poring over legal twaddle, I got a call at around 2:30 in the morning informing me my dad was dead.

I deposited the plastic box with his ashes in it on a windowsill just inside my door—another ambient token of loss—where it remained until the courthouse games ended in July.

It now sits on a closet shelf. It’s not alone. My dog, who was my emotional ballast during the long fallow years, died a year before my father, while I was similarly preoccupied with railing against injustices that shouldn’t be possible in a civil society. A plastic box with her remains occupies the same shelf as my father’s. What else is on the shelf I haven’t looked at since before I had white hairs.

It’s conceivable, of course, that I have cancer. More significant to remark is that I have no interest in finding out and really wouldn’t care.

Copyright © 2019 RestrainingOrderAbuse.com

Weston Solutions Dirt Engineer Phil Bredfeldt Complains to the Court That He’s Been Stalked

UPDATE: Allegations by psychiatric patient Tiffany Bredfeldt, wife of Phil Bredfeldt, the subject of this post, were invalidated in July of 2018, and Phil’s wife is expressly prohibited by order of the court from making false or frivolous accusations to law enforcement officials in the future. Phil Bredfeldt’s own claims to the court were dismissed entirely.


Philip (“Phil”) Bredfeldt is a geoscientist employed by Weston Solutions in Austin, Texas. The writer babysat Mr. Bredfeldt’s wife for three months in 2005 (September through early December). During the 2016 court procedure this post describes, the latest of many initiated or inspired by this couple over a 10-year period, Mr. Bredfeldt testified he “never met” the writer, which is true. No one the writer knows ever so much as glimpsed or heard a word about a “Phil” when his wife was a regular presence on the property where the writer lives, and Mrs. Bredfeldt took care never to use her last name at all.

In 2012, one of Phil Bredfeldt and his wife’s witnesses (in both 2013 and this year) told the writer that Mr. Bredfeldt had been known as “the phantom husband” in 2005, because none of his wife’s pals had ever seen him either, and his wife “never talked about Phil at all” (but did complain of marital dissatisfaction and did talk about the writer to “EVERYONE…at the time”). The same witness (their witness) said Phil Bredfeldt’s wife, Tiffany, had been “considering an affair” with the writer and that she had known Tiffany Bredfeldt for “years maybe?” before learning the woman was married herself.

Ray Bredfeldt MD, Raymond Bredfeldt MD, Dr Ray Bredfeldt, Arkansas Blue Cross and Blue Shield, ABCBS, Ruth Bredfeldt

Among Phil Bredfeldt’s slated witnesses in 2016 was his daddy, who was also Phil’s best man in 2001. Over the years the writer’s family has been sickened by Tiffany and Phil Bredfeldt’s effluvia, Dr. Ray Bredfeldt, an M.D.—but no less a political creature for that—rented his credentials to Arkansas Blue Cross and Blue Shield. The starting salary for a regional medical director approaches $200,000, and Dr. Bredfeldt held the position for some dozen years. Above is his mugshot from Blue and You, the corporation’s quarterly magazine. It conveys the correct impression of caring and trustworthy professionalism. When Dr. Bredfeldt’s family’s invasive violations began in 2006, the writer’s mother was in chemotherapy for breast cancer, and his father was hospitalized and died, skeletal and too weak to move, while the Bredfeldts’ latest attack was in full swing. Dr. Bredfeldt, who has been a deacon of the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA) and lauded “Arkansas Family Doctor of the Year,” has shown nothing but indifference. To avoid paying any damages caused by his family’s conduct, he has temporized for over 10 years and was last summer prepared to testify in court to have the writer incarcerated to conceal what this preface bares.

These facts are undisputed: Phil Bredfeldt’s wife was frequently outside of the writer’s residence at night (alone) in 2005, never wore a wedding ring, and never identified herself as married or made any reference to a spouse. She gave in evidence to the court months later (March 2006) the statement that the writer had been “nice” to her and that she had “never felt the need to explain” to him that she was married. Then Mrs. Bredfeldt testified to multiple judges (including in her husband’s presence) that the writer had serially sexually harassed her. Fully seven years later, in 2013, the court was told the writer had “propositioned” Mrs. Bredfeldt and “ask[ed] for” or “offered her sex.” During the same procedure—a two-hour hearing with a six-month coda that violated both the state and federal constitutions—the court was informed Mrs. Bredfeldt “would not wear a wedding ring” while she was outside of the writer’s residence at night.

A normal mind might wonder why a woman’s husband wouldn’t have intervened if she said she was being sexually harassed. Most (non-phantom) husbands would.

Mr. Bredfeldt testified to the court in the procedure this post introduces that he only heard the writer’s name for the first time months after the alleged sexual harassment…right about the time the writer demanded (in three emails sent over a weekend) that Mrs. Bredfeldt explain her behaviors at his home—which behaviors shouldn’t be difficult for the reader to imagine (“Where I come from, it’s considered rude not to at least invite a person onto your porch”/“Breasts aren’t shaped that way”/“Are you cold?”).

Mr. Bredfeldt compensated for his absenteeism in 2005 by emailing the writer and calling him a “SICK FUCK.” The Bredfeldts sent the email and cc’ed it to the University of Arizona Police Department the same day they got a restraining order, which prohibited the writer from responding. The officer the email was cc’ed to, who said the couple had been on the phone with her when the email was sent, told the writer she believed Mrs. Bredfeldt “wore the pants.” The court injunction Mrs. Bredfeldt secured emphatically forbade the writer from speaking to her husband, a total stranger whose name twice appears on the form—including in a section demarcated for little kids at risk.

No allegations of sexual harassment were ever made to the police, whom Mr. Bredfeldt’s wife provided with a completely different narrative from the one she would present to the court two days later (and then three weeks after that, three months after that, and seven years after that). Mrs. Bredfeldt told the police that she had admitted to the writer she was married and that he’d subsequently left her alone…but did seize her phone, copy her number from its back against her wishes, and “[proceed] to contact her.” The writer never spoke to Mrs. Bredfeldt on the phone. There was no need: He could find her outside of his house most nights.

Phil Bredfeldt identifies himself as a victim and recently testified to the court that he’s “frighten[ed].” The relief from “fear” the Bredfeldts have sought is punishment of the writer for reporting what he has in this preface. That’s supposed to make them feel “safer.” During his testimony, Mr. Bredfeldt avoided meeting the writer’s gaze. The Bredfeldts’ game has gone on for over a decade…and it has eroded lives.


It’s a novel argument—and impressive as much for its preposterousness as for its ability to influence a judge.

In the latest of a series of abusive prosecutions initiated or inspired by Tiffany and Phil Bredfeldt against the author of this site, it was alleged on July 15, 2016, by the couple’s attorney, Christopher Scileppi, that I had “contacted” the Bredfeldts by repeatedly setting off Google alerts that one of them had followed the above steps to activate.

Any time a specific word or phrase Phil Bredfeldt had asked Google to be alerted about appeared in anything I published online (like “red herring,” say), an email was automatically generated by Google and transmitted to Mr. Bredfeldt.

This, attorney Christopher Scileppi told Pima County Superior Court Judge Richard Gordon, represented a communication FROM me TO Mr. Bredfeldt.

Why the ridiculous stretch? I’ve had no contact whatever with Tiffany Bredfeldt, a woman who was routinely to be found outside of my residence at night in 2005, since her accusations against me began in the spring of 2006, and I’ve never met the husband Mrs. Bredfeldt denied having. Tiffany—and I only knew her as “Tiffany”; she was careful to hide her last name—presented a cover story to the police and courts in 2006 that she has repeatedly sued me to maintain for over 10 years. She says I stalked and sexually harassed her. Never mind that I have never been to her house (at midnight or any other hour)…or eagerly told her about my body or my underwear.

Role reversal by false complainants is standard operating procedure.

Because no-contact-in-over-10-years more than lames the allegation that I have “stalked” and “harassed” the couple, they had to get creative. Satisfaction of stalking and harassment statutes requires that some conduct be directed AT the so-called victim (e.g., phone calls TO him or her, or emails or texts sent TO him or her). In the past decade, I’ve only ever written ABOUT the couple, who live in a different state, and speech ABOUT people is protected by the First Amendment. So the Bredfeldts concocted a workaround: They set up an automated service to contact them and then alleged that contact from Google equated to contact from me.


Phil Bredfeldt, Philip Bredfeldt

In testimony to the court, Phil Bredfeldt explains how he “set up” the Google Alert he claimed represented “contact” by the author of this blog.


What should have elicited a derisive scoff from the judge instead inspired his rapt attention.

Judge Gordon made no effort to conceal he knew little about computers or the Internet, and Mr. Scileppi, the plaintiffs’ attorney (a criminal attorney), produced an expert witness on computers and “cybercrimes” to testify (also a criminal attorney). The expert, Brian Chase, a scrupulous man, did not propose to the court that a Google alert represented a communication from me to the plaintiffs. But the effectiveness of nonsense arguments isn’t determined by their legitimacy; it’s determined by the air of legitimacy that the right theatrical elements confer.

What distracts, works.

Here’s an analogous argument: I ask someone to monitor my neighbor and tell me every time she says good morning; she says good morning every day; thus I’m harassed every day. My spy’s bulletins to me about my neighbor’s activities are “the same” as if my neighbor contacted me.

Why absurd arguments work like magic spells in cases like this is that what should be obvious becomes muddied by prejudicial associations: “court order,” “Internet,” “cyberstalking,” etc. Such arguments also exploit judicial credulity. They’re conceived to manipulate the court.

Mr. Scileppi concluded his remarks during the hearing by asserting I was manipulating the court.

Get it?

Copyright © 2016 RestrainingOrderAbuse.com

*I was represented by a talented lawyer, Kent F. Davis, whose appointment was only permitted because the plaintiffs insisted that I be jailed. Mr. Davis objected to the “entire line of questioning” during the July 15 hearing, because it was irrelevant. A good half of the day was consumed by testimony about “tags,” the keywords at the bottoms of posts that catalog their topics (and that haven’t been used by any major search engine in forever). There are very few conceivable ways that tags could be used that wouldn’t be constitutionally protected. Mr. Davis’s objection was offhandedly overruled. Had he not been there to demand a stay of the proceedings, what do you suppose the outcome would have been? And had he not been there, who in the system do you suppose would have cared?