The case “US v. Cherwitz, et. al.” involves charges of forced labor conspiracy under 18 U.S.C. § 1594(b) against Rachel Cherwitz, a former senior salesperson for the wellness company OneTaste, Inc., and Nicole Daedone, the founder of the company.
The investigation, led by FBI Special Agent Elliot McGinnis, led to an indictment that alleges Cherwitz and Daedone conspired to extract labor from individuals by force.
One of the central issues in the case is the authenticity of Ayries Blanck’s journals, and accusations of government misconduct in handling the investigation. The defense has challenged the indictment, seeking dismissal if evidence of fabrication is proven.

Ayries Blanck, author of the purported “2015” journals, claims she was forced to have sex with every Tom, Dick and Smelly. How sad. Her texts, which she said were destroyed, were uncovered. So were her Facebook messages. Texts about wanting sex – again and again – and again. She was ready to hump or be humped by everything that moved. Her texts and private messages, sadly, contradict her story of rape-sorrow in her journal. Who knew they would find the old texts and messages. She was the happiest hooker who never got paid.
This begs the question: What does the Department of Justice do when it uses fake evidence and gets caught?
A motion filed on February 17, 2025 by Jennifer Bonjean, attorney for Nicole Daedone, concerns Ayries Blanck’s journals.
The defense had filed a motion on December 30, 2024, questioning their authenticity. Were they written when Blanck claimed – in 2015? Or had they been fabricated in 2022 – seven years after they were dated – to comport with the narrative the government was pursuing?

MK10ART’s painting of Ayries Blanck with her handwritten journal. Funny all the other entries in her journal are in ink (a substance that can be dated). But the journal in question is in pencil. Sounds legit.
The government like timid rabbits had backed away from the journals in their case-in-chief. They know it is a fraud. But they had not disavowed them. To disavow them is to disavow the case agent FBI Special Agent Elliot McGinnis, who actually had a role as an author on the Google Doc that created the journal, and whose private communications with Blanck include emails on his private Gmail account – set to confidential mode – self deleting in 24 hours.

Agent McGinnis knows. He used confidential-mode Gmail messages because when you gather evidence for a federal trial, you need reliable a email deletion technology. Seven out of ten federal agents turn to Gmail for their email deletion of evidence needs.
The defendants asked for an evidentiary hearing. If the journals were fabricated—and if the government was complicit—Blanck’s testimony might have to be barred.
A ruling on whether Blanck could take the stand. A ruling on what the government knew and when they knew it is the subject of the motion.

Enquiring minds want to know: if you lie about your journals, would you possibly lie on the stand?
A Fabrication Unraveling
The government had its evidence. A journal. A handwritten confession of suffering, of trauma, written in purple prose. A document that tied the past to the present, a link between what was alleged and what must be true.
Except, it wasn’t.
Not true. Not from the past.
The defendant had asked the government more than once for proof. Metadata. A simple confirmation that the typewritten pages—typed on a Google Doc – said to be from 2015—had been written when they claimed. The government had not answered. Instead, they had produced a screenshot. It showed only one thing: the FBI received the documents on March 9, 2023.
That was not proof of anything.

Changing your writing utensil mid-trauma narrative suggests authenticity. Keep plenty of erasers handy. What’s next? Journals written entirely in crayon.

FBI Tech Tip #143: When asked for metadata that you don’t want to produce, produce a screenshot and hope the defense attorney is an imbecile. It often works. If it doesn’t, try citing Wikipedia and calling it verified.
The original journals, the handwritten ones, the ones Blanck supposedly wrote in 2015, had not been turned over until July 30, 2024—more than a year after the defense first asked. And when they came, they came without explanation. No disclosure of their origin. No timeline. No answer to the simplest question of all: Which came first?
A Story Changes
It was only when the defense pushed harder—another letter, another request—that the government spoke again. December 2, 2024. This time, the defense had the upper hand. They had uncovered evidence that could no longer be ignored.
Two days later, the government scrambled. Another interview with Ayries Blanck. This time, her story shifted.
She “thought” she had sent her original journals to Agent McGinnis. She did not remember how. She did not recall whether she had typed them or sent them by hand. She admitted her sister, Autymn, was involved. That the Netflix filmmaker, Sarah Gibson, had been involved. That the journals were transcribed onto a Google document in 2022—years after they were supposed to exist.

Ayries Blanck needs her own lawyer, not the government. Why? Because the government cannot immunize her from perjury on the witness stand. But maybe not. With the journals doubling as script drafts for Netflix, Blanck can randomly shout “CUT!” mid-cross examination.
And yet, she insisted, they were real.
A careful prosecutor would have questioned the timeline. Would have asked why the Google document version, typed in 2022, did not match the handwritten version said to be from 2015.
A careful prosecutor would have asked why the final, highly edited Google version—sent to McGinnis in 2023— did match the handwritten copy.
A careful prosecutor would have asked why the “final” versions were still being edited even after the Netflix documentary aired.
A careful prosecutor did not ask.
It took new defense counsel to see what should have been obvious. When they inspected the handwritten journals on February 11, 2025, they saw what had been missed—or ignored.
The “original” entries were at the end of a journal, not within it. Pages added after the fact. The style—wrong. The handwriting—wrong. The neatness, the erasures, the fully-formed sentences. It wasn’t how Blanck wrote.
She did not use dates. These pages had dates.
She wrote in pen. These pages were in pencil.
She scribbled over mistakes. These pages were neatly erased.
She wrote in fragments. These pages read like a novel.
It was not a journal. It was a script.

Autymn Blanck shows up, wig and all, to reenact her sister’s journal readings on Netflix. Hopefully, she can also make sense of the timeline.
A Hearing is Needed
The Supreme Court has made it clear: fabricated evidence cannot stand. It does not matter whether it is introduced in direct examination, in rebuttal, or slipped in sideways under cross. It does not matter whether it is typed, handwritten, or spoken from the stand.
If it is false, it taints everything.
Blanck is now in an impossible position. To take the stand means two options:
Tell the truth and admit to perjury.
Lie and risk something worse.
If she testifies, she would need counsel. Because perjury is still a crime, even when the government looks the other way. The government has already said they will not call FBI Special Agent McGinnis at trial – an obvious choice since he is criminally complicit, and in America we do not like to punish criminal law enforcement federal agents.

Ayries Blanck’s journals describe her as 98 pounds and emaciated. Meanwhile, her friends’ photos from 2015 show her looking like a Midwestern farm ad.
What Comes Next?
US District Court Judge Gujarati must rule. Not later. Not in the middle of trial, when it will be too late. But now.
The government has already said they might use the journals in rebuttal. But they cannot use evidence they know is false.
If the journals are false, Blanck’s testimony is false.
If the testimony is false, the case is built on fraud. She is their star witness.
This was the foundation. Blanck was the first person McGinnis interviewed in 2018. She launched all this massive effort to imprison two women. Her boyfriend called her a pathological liar when, astounded, he realized she was the center of the case. He told that to Agent McGinnis.
Seven years later, just about everyone has come to realize the entire case is built on nothing at all.
The government has until March 12 to reply. Will the prosecutors continue to cover up for McGinnis? Or will they admit the inevitable – that they do not plan to call Ayries Blanck – their star witness – to the stand?

Her journal describes her as frail and starving. But photos from 2015 show Aryies looking like she just came from a county fair pie-eating contest.

She’s drowning in inconsistencies. Maybe next time stand in a lightning storm for added credibility.

Can someone call Portland to report the fraud of Ayries Blanck?

