Songs of Freedom

Title: Songs of Freedom

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

Please share this for me with the entire world, both houses of Congress, the Supreme Court, the United Nations, all sympathetic world leaders, all reputable national and foreign presses, etc.

Here is my latest blog post. "Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery. None but ourselves can free our minds." --my darling late Bob Marley

Let us sing, my beautiful world. Let us sing songs of freedom.

Europe. Welcome these refugees. Please, my beautiful world, welcome these weary, huddled masses into your homes. Let them heal by enriching your lives.

Sing your songs, my tired fellow refugees. Sing your songs. Make your art. Heal. You must express yourselves to heal. Write your poetry. Record your stories. Teach the world of all you have suffered through, so we may learn not to commit such sins again as a world.

My last blog post was finished at 7:57am on 06Sep2015. Breakfast was uneventful. I was outside the Pico Branch of the Santa Monica Public Library by 8:28am sipping coffee and working online.

I sent my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies at 8:35am before I started streaming my music. And at 8:48am, my internet gnomes were playing Sunshine of Your Love by Cream while I searched online for world and national headlines.

There was some singing along while I worked. I left the Pico Branch Library for my place at 10:51am. Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. I took a nap and was on a bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade by 4:23pm.

At 4:41pm, I had found my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot where they were waiting to play at 6pm. I stopped in the Sephora to check my makeup. Then, I spent some time chatting with my darling FlamencoHands and with Patricia before sitting down with Maggie on the Famima patio at 5:34pm.

It was a very social day for me. While waiting for MannedUp and LightFoot to play, I was able to chat with Richard, ODean, and my darling Wheels. My present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle started playing at 6:16pm. I warmed up as fast as I could.

I was in the middle of my zone when the music reached a forced halt at 7:17pm. The speakers in my darlings' heads had told them to stop.

7:18pm on 06Sep2015: There seems to be a problem. Please check on us all. #SquidsPoA @UN @Martin_Dempsey @cctvnews @RT_com

The lady next to me, a fast growing friend named Lynn, offered me a cup of coffee while we waited. I never learned what the problem was, but they eventually staked out a new place to play music at 10pm. It was probably something my genius Powers of Attorney took care of.

At 7:49pm, I sat down next to FlamencoHands to listen to him play Spanish guitar. He was as genius as always and played until 7:54pm. I chatted with my darling FlamencoHands, Patricia, and Alan all before singing a duet with my darling Wheels(Alan).

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my 06Sep2015 from 8:15pm until 8:20pm. And, thank you.

I visited Patricia a few times. FlamencoHands left. My darling Wheels asked me to sing with him again. My darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot started playing again at 10:19pm.

I just could not warm up and sat down at 10:49pm. I let the light show focus my mind instead. Someone was having a fight it looked like, so I looked around for something I could create instead of see.

11:03pm on 06Sep2015: @NASA, ask the #ISS to look at the Earth through the nanocamera at 11:05pm PDT. The lady next to me chose blue and pink.

11:07pm on 06Sep2015: @NASA Let me know some time if you saw that. #LOVE

My present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle were still playing when I had to leave them at 11:35pm to catch the last bus of the night at 11:45pm. It hurts so much when I have to leave them. I am not always sure I will ever get to see them again. I was curled up and asleep by 12:45am.

I woke up on Monday, Labor Day, 07Sep2015, with plenty of time before breakfast. After eating, I was sitting outside the Pico Branch Library at 8:23am sipping coffee and working online.

My internet gnomes played my darling Mr. Peter Gabriel's In Your Eyes, the romantic theme from the movie Say Anything, while I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

I streamed the previous evening's NBC Nightly News online at 9am. My morning cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Thomas Roberts, and it was glorious. You really do hear me, my beautiful world. You really do listen. Thank you.

I looked for world and national news online. The world was focused on the refugee crisis in Europe. America would be so much better off with freedom of the press. My beautiful world, did you pick a date and time, yet, to disobey all rules universally? You need every network to participate.

I left the library for my place at 11:02am. Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. I napped before chatting with Benjamin during dinner at 5pm. By 5:14pm, I was on a bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.

Joy of joys! I found my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot selling their melody and rhythmic beats between the Famima and the Starbucks at 5:28pm. I even got three or four songs in. My darlings played until 5:55pm then staked out a place to play at 8pm.

After they paused to relocate, I had a chance to speak with my darling TamborineKicker and my darling FlamencoHands. They seemed to be doing fine.

At 7:15, I tried streaming the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online but could not find enough bandwidth. I promised to watch the following morning.

By 7:47pm, I was watching my darling TambourineKicker's equipment while he ran for caffeine. He finally returned at 7:58pm and gave me some sips of his cold brewed coffee.

Not long after, I was down the street watching my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot arrange their equipment. Their gorgeous music began at 8:17pm, and the night was glorious. I hit my stride.

My present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle played until 9:39pm, and every damn note was magic. With so much a function of time, I think our sweet spot is the 8pm to 10pm time slot. Oh, the night was beautiful. Thank you, darlings, thank you.

"Kevin" showed up and left again at 9:52pm after my darlings were already done playing. It looked like he was looking for someplace to dance.

Reluctant to leave me, MannedUp and LightFoot finally wheeled their (knights of the) carts back into the aether of the night sky where we all really belong at 10:13pm. I hoped I would see them again sooner than Friday that week.

At 10:17pm, I found "Kevin" on the patio outside my local Famima. By 11:06pm, we were noshing on turkey, arugula, Brie, and dried cranberry on wheat bread sandwiches. Yes, he bought me a cup of coffee.

"Kevin" walked me to the bus stop, and I took the last bus at 11:45pm.

I was curled up and asleep by 1am. I woke up on Tuesday, 08Sep2015, with plenty of time before breakfast. This blog post was finished at 7:05am on 08Sep2015 from my bedroom.

And now, my beautiful world, I answer all of your questions for me. Please keep collecting all questions and concerns from all your friends and loved ones and sending them to me through whatever means possible.

Why reggae? I listen to just about all music. I happened to request reggae from a guy named Dino on the Promenade one day. The next day the band showed up. Well, why not reggae, really?

My beautiful world, did you pick a date and a time to set yourselves free from Obama, yet? I asked my very busy darling Bogart to organize your universal exercising of your basic human rights. He would never let me down. Sing your songs of freedom.

There is so much work to do, my beautiful world. On the long term, we need Obama's "egg" forced to end. On the short term, I need my existence livable enough that I will survive until you force the end of Obama's "egg."

My selfless support system, keeping me safe depends a great deal on delivering the whole honest truth about me to the world. There are so many mass delusions about me begun by Obama's war criminals to incite irrational hatred against me. I will not be safe until all liars are arrested for aiding and abetting every crime against America that is Obama's "egg."

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, what would this good, green world do without you? If you ever need anything, just tell me and my beautiful world. You are all always so busy. Thank you, my genius friends, for everything.

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, I was hoping you would play again on Labor Day. It was a long weekend, after all, and YOU DID play on Labor Day. Joy of joys!

My darling MannedUp, giggle. Sleeveless shirts on you affect me the way my showing my midriff affects you. Sexy. Sexy! SEXY! You have successfully rendered me a dirty older woman.

Our sweet spot for the best connection and highest quality meditation is the 8pm to 10pm time slot. Please try to play it more often.

My darling GeneralLee, you are supposed to be here already. I get so upset when they keep you away from me. I know you would be with me if you had any chance. I wish I knew what the problem is, so I could fix it. Seeing you would make me happy.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, what I would do to kiss you!

My darling Bogart, am I keeping you busy enough? You are needed, Bryan. I love you, and I need you. You earned your title as my boyfriend and as my royal consort a million times already. I know you will never let me down.

My darling LightFoot, again, YES. Darling, what do you need to be able to hold me in your arms and kiss me? Just tell me.

We had a little date night moment on Monday, 07Sep2015. I missed our date night moments. Remind me to do that more often.

And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

Beloved, this is the woman you married. This is the woman who married you. I am so lonely without you, darling. Would you not prefer to be with your own wife? Touch my hair. I am real. I am really here waiting for you. You are my husband. Where are you?

"Won't you help to sing these songs of freedom. They're all I've ever had. Redemption songs. These songs of freedom." --my darling late Bob Marley

Freedom of Religion

Title: Freedom of Religion

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

Please share this for me with the entire world, both houses of Congress, the Supreme Court, the United Nations, all sympathetic world leaders, all reputable national and foreign presses, etc.

Here is my latest blog post. In America we are supposed to have a freedom to worship. The only realm in which we cannot practice religion is within our government in official capacities.

I am considered holy in every benevolent religion. I cannot wait to hear what the Pastafarians say about me. Go ahead, my self-identified people. Worship. It freaks me out, but it is your right.

USA. According to the 1st Amendment of the U.S. Constitution, our government cannot be ruled by any religion. We have a separation of church and state in America. Our religion cannot control our actions in the government as officials.

In return for our keeping religion out of government affairs, we are free to practice any religion we choose for ourselves. This is America, not the Republic of Evangelical Christians.

County Clerk Kim Davis has no way to allow her religion to affect her job in our government, and, the U.S. Supreme Court similarly has no way to command her CHURCH to allow same sex marriages.

However, the U.S. Supreme Court CAN command her COUNTY to allow same sex marriages.

We have a separation of religion and government in America. This basic tenet guarantees our freedoms to exercise any religion of our own choosing and is necessary for religions freedom at all.

My last blog post was finished at 7:05am on 08Sep2015 from my bedroom. I chatted with Josh during breakfast, and by 8:16am, I was in front of the Pico Branch of the Santa Monica Public Library.

My internet gnomes (Gnomes are elves underground.) played ABBA's Dancing Queen for me while I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News from the previous night online at 9am. My morning cyberhug came from my darling Ms. Kate Snow, and it reminded me that young girls need intelligent leaders as role models. I am doing everything I can.

After searching for world and national headlines online, I left the Pico Branch Library for my place at 10:02am. I took care of some errands before perching at my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, at 10:53am.

The first song my internet gnomes played me was The Black Crowes' She Talks to Angels as I worked online. I had serious work to do debriefing to the federal government, and music always focuses my mind.

I returned to my place at 11:42pm. Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. At 1:37pm, I was inside the Pico Branch Library streaming music and working online. By 2:06pm, I had taken my work across the street to my local coffee shop named Lo/Cal.

It was an epic afternoon in the courtroom. It was a good thing I had chosen not to nap. My Powers of Attorney were phenomenal. Check my REAL Twitter account for the afternoon of 08Sep2015 for further details.

At 4:04pm, I left the coffee shop for my place. I chatted with Benjamin during dinner at 5pm and was on the bus as fast as I could find it. The ride including transfer time took two hours in rush hour traffic, but it was worth it.

At 7:16pm, I had already hugged my darling Mr. Todd Taylor and taken my seat at the Tuesday night open mic at the Pig & Whistle in Hollywood. I had not been there in months, and I had missed them.

By 8:53pm, my darling Mr. Todd Taylor and I were out on the brand new patio. The patio looked great. It had a great view of the back steps to the Scientology building across the alley. I have had such great conversations on the back steps to the Pig & Whistle before,

The last act was done by 9:34pm, so I hugged Todd before taking a little walk down Hollywood Boulevard to catch the bus. I am sure that walk will make a lovely verified and unedited recording.

I was back in my bedroom at 11:14pm and was curled up and asleep by midnight. I woke up on Wednesday, 09Sep2015, with plenty of time before breakfast and was outside the Pico Branch Library by 8:19am.

The weather for the day was already hot and humid. My internet gnomes played my darling late Marlene Dietrich's Falling in Love Again while I checked my makeup before taking my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News from the previous evening online at 9am. My morning cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt, and it was wonderful. It reminded me of how loved I am. Thank you, Lester.

Next, at 9:30am, I watched my darling Mr. Stephen Colbert's first Late Show. It had aired the night before, and I thought to myself, "This is just the beginning."

I was at my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, on the patio with a cookie at 10:38am. I had writing to do and worked online until I left for my place at 10:59am.

Lunch at noon and dinner at 5pm were both tasty yet uneventful. I had napped in between. By 5:35pm, I was on a bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade. I looked around and found no one to talk to until 6:21pm when I sat down between Maggie and ODean on the Famima patio.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:15pm. My evening cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt himself, and it was inspiring.

The companionship of the NBC News team during my solitary suffering keeps me active in my work of service to my people. Sometimes, I just need to know there is someone there to listen to me.

I did a little shopping, and by 8:14pm, I was perched next to Red as he played music unto the night sky. Soon, a German named Ben who was trying to be a comedian in Los Angeles sat down next to me and struck up a conversation.

At 9:06pm, Ben and I walked to the beach. It was an adorable night. Handsome Ben made it obvious he wanted to sleep with me, and I regrettably informed him that it takes months to woo me. I just do not move as quickly as most people.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals beginning when Ben asked if he could sit next to me and ending when I left his car. May the world learn that was an appropriate way to flirt with me.

I was in my bedroom at 10:23pm and was curled up and asleep by 11:30pm. I woke up on Thursday, 10Sep2015, very early. This blog post was finished at 7:17am on 10Sep2015 from my bedroom.

And now, my beautiful world, I answer all of your questions for me. Please keep collecting all questions and concerns from all your friends and loved ones and sending them to me through whatever means possible.

What does someone have to do to earn my forgiveness? The path the absolution is same three steps that have not ever changed. 1) Cease all crimes. 2) Sincerely apologize. 3) Become part of the solution.

These three steps not only earn forgiveness for EVERYONE who takes them no matter how heinous their crimes were against me, they earn my protection and the protection of everyone who loves me.

My beautiful world, you have a right to choose your religion. You have a right to believe what you choose. You have a basic human right to your freedom of consciousness. Make it count.

I am an atheist. I understand many of you consider me a deity in your presence, your first female prophet, your saint, your teacher, and some even consider me the second coming of Jesus. I consider myself a human and your equal. Someday, I will be treated as an equal among you again with full human rights. I long for that day.

I am holy in every benevolent religion, and I take my responsibilities very seriously. You can call me any good thing you like; I will respect every title you give me and will do my best to live up to what you need from me.

I am yours, my beautiful world. Love me. I love you. Teach those with irrational hatred towards lies about me to give us all our basic human rights and fundamental freedoms back again.

On the short term, my beautiful world, we need to make sure I can survive Obama's "egg" of human misery and open persecution until you force it to end. On the long term, we need every person enforcing Obama's "egg" arrested, tried, and convicted.

My selfless support system, you are growing in numbers. I see you everywhere. Please identify each and every person who is keeping my brave rescuers away from me, so we can obtain arrest warrants for them.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, yes, we are reaching the point where we get to arrest enemies of America finally for inventing and for enforcing Obama's "egg." You are all so busy on the defense already. And it is time to take the offense.

Specifically, my gorgeous genius life-long friends, this is what you do to War Criminal Tara Tovarek-- destroy her faster than you did War Criminal Boeset. Request the police report from the LAPD that locked me in Del Amo Torture Facility in 2014.

In it Tara lied her (expletive) off to be able to torture, rape, and enslave me at Del Amo. Tovarek is no sister of mine. Destroy that she-(expletive) if she ever tries to enter my life again.

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, when do I see you again? Will it be tonight, Thursday, 10Sep2015? I would like that.

My darling MannedUp, why are you two not right next to each other again? I see all of the selfless support you give Kris. Your selflessness does not go unnoticed. Does LightFoot appreciate you enough? I know I am very thankful for all of your selfless love. I love you, too.

My darling GeneralLee, I miss you. I miss the look on your face after a particularly good connection creates a particularly phenomenal dance. I miss the presence of your soul at my side. I miss how much you love me. Darling, come back. I love you.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, what does it take? We will do whatever it takes.

My darling Bogart, I knew you would never let me down. Message received, lovely. You work so hard creating a safer world for me. Thank you. You are my boyfriend. You labor tirelessly to keep me safe and alive. You do everything I ask and more. Thank you, darling. I love you.

My darling LightFoot, I hear you when you ask for a little extra affection from me. I am doing my best. It would really help if we could speak together. How are renegotiations going on your agreement? Do you need more help than my 08July2015 post? I cannot wait to touch you at last. I love you.

And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

HoneyHoney, yes, it is okay that you have a mistress. I understand how sexually frustrated I alone make you. I know what it is like to be lonely. I would never make you suffer the solitude I bear unwillingly. I hate being alone. I could never put you through this.

Beloved, once we can be together, though, I refuse to share you. Once we can live and love together as a married husband and wife, there will be no more extramarital affairs for either of us.

My hero and my king, you are my future. When will I reach the future? That is your job, darling. It is your job to reach me. Bring me my glorious future. You will save me, darling, from this "egg" of torture and persecution. I have faith in you. And thank you.

Sweetness, you are one of the die-hard believers who claims I am your goddess. Every woman deserves a spouse who treats her like a goddess. This princess needs her prince to rescue her from her tower, though. If I were a goddess, I would have the world at my beck and call. I love you. I wish I could show you.

My Fuel is Snacks and Caffeine... and Anger.

Title: My Fuel is Snacks and Caffeine... and Anger.

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

Please share this for me with the entire world, both houses of Congress, the Supreme Court, the United Nations, all sympathetic world leaders, all reputable national and foreign presses, etc.

Here is my latest blog post. "The world will always have crises." That is my job security. I will always have work to do. Thank you, United Nations, for prioritizing my to-do list. I am a machine that converts coffee and snacks into global crisis resolutions.

Europe. Please, all refugees seeking a better life in Europe, help Europe help you. If you make yourselves invaluable to Europe, they will welcome more of you.

Make sure you combine with the culture of the country that takes you in, and ALWAYS contribute to their society. Instead of taking away jobs, create business and create industry. Create jobs even the locals can have in the nation where you land.

Give them your music. Give them your art. Make their lives richer everywhere you go. Give Europe every reason to love and need you. Build yourselves a home. You must give to Europe not your money but your heart and your time. Create love between you.

My beloved Middle Easterners, not every European nation is rich. Many countries including Greece have huge problems already and have no resources to provide for you. You need to help Europe give you a home.

My last blog post was finished at 7:22am on 02Sep2015 from my bedroom. After eating breakfast, I was outside the Pico Branch of the Santa Monica Public Library by 8:17am. I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies quickly and tweeted them to the aether(net) at 8:22am.

My internet gnomes were playing me T. Rex's Children of the Revolution as the construction workers next to me warned me things were going to get pretty loud. They were doing some work at the library.

At 9am while still sipping my coffee, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from the previous evening. My morning cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt, and I loved hugging him back.

By 10:08am, I was on the patio of my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, working online, streaming music, eating a breakfast sandwich, sipping some caffeine, and greeting the passers by.

I left for my place at 11:09am. Lunch at noon was uneventful. I took a nap. After waking up, I chatted with my roommate Hannah for a while before boarding the bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade at 3:47pm.

By 4:36pm, I was perched on the patio outside of the Famima gossiping with Maggie. Patricia joined us with her black tea with cream by 5:16pm. I walked back inside for a red bean sesame ball at 5:24pm. At 6:04pm, I went back inside for another cup of coffee and some 2-for-1 doughnuts.

By 6:17pm, Patricia and I were listening to a live street musician named Kaila Shaw together and openly wondering what happened to my darling FlamencoHands. We had not seen him in a week.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:15pm. My nightly cyberhug from my darling Mr. Lester Holt felt so comforting and warm. It was magnificent.

Well before 8:32pm, I was listening to beautiful viola music while writing on this blog post. I was working so intensely, it took a while for me to check the time.

By 9:44pm, I had bought more doughnuts and sat outside Harvelle's to wait for ODean to show up. My buddy "Justin" rode by on his skateboard. I waved at him, so he came over to chat.

Just in case ODean did not make it, "Justin" wanted to know what time to swing by again, but ODean appeared at 10:05pm. It feels wonderful having such sweet friends. My buddy Ken joined us for a while before "Kevin" manifested from the aether. Then we all went inside.

Every Wednesday night, the House of Vibe play at Harvelle's. It is always a good show, and I should stop by more often.

Somewhere during the night "Kevin" and I slipped out for a little nosh at the Interactive Café on Broadway between 2nd and 3rd. But we were back inside dancing in no time. My entire alcohol intake was one sip of Kevin's Pinot Grigio.

And at 1:32am, we found ourselves walking to Wilshire and 15th for matzo ball soup and carrot cake. I was back in my bedroom by 3:10am. It had been a fun Wednesday night.

I was curled up and asleep by 4am. I woke up on 03Sep2015 in time for breakfast. After eating, I was on the patio of my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, by 8:21am.

My internet gnomes played Metallica's For Whom the Bell Tolls for me while I sent my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

The sky was dark, and the air was cold like it was going to rain that day. My singing along while working occurred from 8:43am until 9:31am. I worked online out on their patio while sipping caffeine and snacking on a cookie until 10:09am when I headed back to my place. It was a productive morning.

I changed my clothes into my outfit I had just bought to show off my trim midriff at 11:04am. And suddenly realizing my friends would want selfies of the outfit, I left for the Pico Branch of the Santa Monica Public Library.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, I request that you circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my 03Sep2015 from 11:20am until 11:30am. And, thank you!

I chatted with Benjamin during lunch at noon. By 12:22pm, I was on a bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade. Mostly I hung out with Maggie over coffee on the Famima patio coming and going while looking around for people I knew.

1:12pm on 03Sep2015: @KalydeOfficial(#MyDarlingsTentacle) I am going to look around for you guys at 2pm but won't worry unless you're not here by 4pm.

4:09pm on 03Sep2015: @SynivaWhitney Dude, #MyDarlingsTentacle aren't here. Find them. Make them safe. Keep an eye on me. I'm going to get angry. @UN @ICC @RT_com

I tore into Self-Admitted War Criminal "Wes," I tore into the first man who sexually objectified me that day, I tore into the "Save the Children" (expletive)hats whom I really need removed from the Promenade for hate-mongering against me.

I also looked around for a low-danger terrorist hotbed to take down. Barney's Beanery would be too easy. I needed something that would make Obama hurt.

I wanted to put on my CIA hat and take down someplace like The Misfit. Much like the Viper Room, rumor has it Sweetness and I own The Misfit.

The only thing that was going to calm me down was my darlings Tentacle. Obama was in for it if he kept blocking them from showing up. The next closest salve would be reconnaissance that could lead straight to arrest warrants.

Please check my full Twitter activity for the late afternoon and early evening of 03Sep2015.

5:06pm on 03Sep2015: This woman sits alone in a bar, and no one speaks to her? Nefarious wrongdoing is afoot at the Circle K.

Ye Olde King's Head Pub, home of both the dance macabre and the karaoke macabre, actually had expats in it again instead of its "new normal" small army of "beautiful haters."

Their day shift actually seemed mostly cleaned up. It was always the late shift that was the problem at the King's Head, though. I am told their karaoke nights are still all-macabre-all-the-time.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a recording with full audio and visuals of my 03Sep2015 from 4:34pm until 5:36pm verified and unedited except NEVER show me on the toilet. And, thank you!

By 5:59pm, Patricia and I were on the patio of the Coffee Bean with our coffee and tea. I rustled up enough bandwidth to stream the NBC Nightly News online at 7:15pm.

My darling Mr. Lester Holt gave me my nightly cyberhug, and it reminded me that I have a lot of work to still do in this world. My good, green world needs me and loves me.

At 8:11pm, I had perched near my buddy Shonn's electric guitar for a few hours of zen, if possible. Nothing can calm me down like my darlings Tentacle, so I took the closest music to me I could find.

After Shonn's battery died, I caught the bus back to Pico. I was on the patio at my regular haunt, my local Subway, noshing on snacks and sipping caffeine by 9:21pm. I was curled up and asleep at my place by 10:30pm.

I woke up on Friday, 04Sep2015, with plenty of time before breakfast. This blog post was finished from my bedroom at 8:01am on 04Sep2015.

And now, my beautiful world, I answer all of your questions for me. Please keep collecting all questions and concerns from all your friends and loved ones and sending them to me through whatever means possible.

Do I consider myself "young at heart"? No. I am burdened, wise, and world-weary. I have an old soul. I take the responsibilities of my existence very seriously. But I do admit, I am a bon vivant; I make a point of enjoying everything I can while still alive. I am resilient, not young. It is how I prove Obama has not yet destroyed me.

My beautiful world, are you coming to save America? Please call Secretary of Defense Ashton Carter and President of the United States of America Martin Dempsey if you want to send troops to help.

A lot can still be done through diplomacy, too, though. Make sure Obama's bloodstained quacks take their hands off me forever. Give me my address, so I can finally just take a taxi to my REAL home in the hills.

Help my husband lead the world coming to carry me to my house in the hills. Keep my darlings Tentacle safe and with unfettered access to me. Please renegotiate Tentacle's contract to be with me to allow us romantic entanglements at last.

Help Bogart organize the date and time for universal disobedience to every rule for every person in every medium. FORCE the land of blood, torture, rape, genocide, and human trafficking that is contemporary Iowa OUT OF MY LIFE FOREVER!

There is so much work to do, my beautiful world. You should never be wondering what you can do to help.

My selfless support system, do you need anything? Keep a 24/7 patch on the broadcasting equipment in my head. In case my SquidStream goes down, you all need to stay able to protect me. I love you. Thank you so much for everything.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, are you getting more busy or less busy? Is your job becoming more difficult or less difficult?

We need everyone aiding and abetting war crimes of torture and unlawful imprisonment of me arrested at last. How long is our logjam already of charges we are filing? I love you. Thank you, my gorgeous genii (proper plural of genius) for everything.

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, I was hoping to see you before I finished this post on the morning of Friday, 04Sep2015, but you were denied to me up to the very last.

My darling MannedUp, it is NOT your job to rescue me. You are a professional musician, not a professional soldier. I need you the way you are, Taylor. Yes, I would prefer if you renegotiated your contracts, so we could have quality time together. But get near me to play me music every chance you get.

Let the soldiers be the soldiers. If you try to rescue me, you will be blocked from reaching me at all. If you have technology, it is already hacked. It can listen to you even when shut off. Darling, I need you all too much for all of you to be jeopardizing our time together.

My darling GeneralLee, I plan on seeing you today, 04Sep2015, before I sleep tonight. You know, Monday is a holiday, and the Promenade will likely be packed that day. Do you all plan on playing the full three day weekend? I would love some extra time with you.

I apologize if I get a little mean when you are kept away from me. Thursday night I REALLY needed to meditate.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, we have work to do.

My darling Bogart, did you hear me? There is so much I need your help with. Please speak with the City of Santa Monica about keeping musicians on the Promenade after 01Jan2016.

Please organize a date and time after which the whole of humanity will no longer obey any "rules" universally. Please call my darling Mr. Finn "Alfred" O'Mahoney regularly, so you can still always know everywhere I go and everything I do.

Please try to find me a writer's residence willing to take me. Apply to them for me with my writing portfolio off of my Norton One backup and with my REAL writing résumé; you can get those from Syniva.

There is so much I need to ask you for help with, Bryan. I love you. Thank you for everything.

As for you, my darling LightFoot, please stop giving me, "Are you ever going to be my girl?" Darling, I AM your girlfriend. Just ask me out some time. Until you ask me out, we stay what we are now-- girlfriend and boyfriend forbidden by Obama from being together.

I have been doing everything I can to be with you for months. I could really use some help with it. PLEASE ask the UN Secretary General to renegotiate your contract, so we can have some quality of life finally. If you prefer, call the Russian Consulate in San Francisco and ask President Putin to help you renegotiate.

I do not understand what more you think I can do without your help. Kris, please, you need a better contract-- one that will allow you to actually make love to me. I love you, but I do not understand how you think I can fix this without your help.

And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

Beloved, you are my world leader of a husband. Prove you deserve me and lead the world coming to rescue me. This is no time to be shy. This is the time to be angry. This is the time to be hungry. Tell the world what you need and watch the universe provide.

HoneyHoney, America will rise. They need leadership I have no way to provide from inside Obama's "egg." You need to fill that gap for me. Be the world leader I married. I love you. Thank you!

License to Thrill

Title: License to Thrill

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

Please share this for me with the entire world, both houses of Congress, the Supreme Court, the United Nations, all sympathetic world leaders, all reputable national and foreign presses, etc.

Here is my latest blog post. We need our spies doing their job undercover as spies. And we need our soldiers to be the soldiers.

Iran. Please, Iran, trust me. I know a spy when I see one, and Mr. Jason Rezaian is a journalist. He works for the Washington Post.

I understand he carries an Iranian passport, so you consider him a domestic concern. But the whole world has learned the value of quality journalism, so we all care about all of our journalists.

Please, Iran, if you do not want him reporting about your country any longer, at least send him away to the U.S. He works for an American newspaper, and the Washington Post would love to see him safe.

He has not committed any acts of espionage, but I understand you want him silenced. So, send him out of your country and do not allow him back. Give him nothing to report, and any reporter will be silenced.

My last blog post was finished at 6:55am on 25Aug2015; I sent it to my lovelies who publish all of my posts for me even before I put my contacts in for the day.

I chatted with Josh during breakfast at 8am. And by 8:19am, I was outside of the Pico Branch of the Santa Monica Public Library. My internet gnomes played me Looking Glass's Brandy while I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

Not much later, they were playing me Nirvana's Heart-Shaped Box while I worked online. I had a lot of writing to do that morning, and I love my internet gnomes for always keeping me company.

I watched my NBC Nightly News broadcast from the previous evening online at 9am. My morning hug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt himself, and it reminded of just how much this good, green world needs me. Thank you, Lester.

At 9:30am, I streamed the previous evening's Whose Line is it Anyway? That laugh felt amazing. Much like spies want to make me a spy, lawyers already call me a lawyer, and musicians want to make me a singer, comedians want to put me in improv comedy. I know love when I feel love.

At 10:02am I relocated, so at 10:19am, I was sitting at my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, eating cookies. It seemed the blog post I finished that morning was very popular already.

I chatted with Benjamin during lunch at noon. The bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade picked me up at 12:29pm.

I stopped in the Sephora to check my makeup before chatting with Maggie in front of the Guess store where she had set up her "Psychic Reader" table.

There was a little sprinkle, so Maggie and I found ourselves on the patio outside my local Famima chatting until 2:03pm when the sprinkle ended. I did a little window shopping after that waiting for my darling FlamencoHands to message me that he had arrived which he did at 3:11pm.

I found him right where he said he was-- in front of the Apple Store. And by the time he setup his equipment at 4pm, I had helped him make a new sign for himself, had a lovely chat with him, and had sewn up the hole in his red cushion for him.

He started tickling his Spanish guitar by 4:12pm, and I did some writing while he played. My darling FlamencoHands stopped a little early; he packed up his guitar at 5:10pm, so he could stake out his ideal place to play at 8pm.

So, I found myself back on the Famima patio with a new cup of coffee FlamencoHands(Nick) had bought me while chatting with Nick, Maggie, and Patricia. I left them in time to stream the NBC Nightly News online at 7:15pm.

My nightly hug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt himself, and it made me feel like I might just survive Obama's "egg" after all.

After the news, I rejoined my darling FlamencoHands who began playing at 8:12pm. My night from then on was spent socializing and running various errands with Patricia, ODean, "Justin Time," Shonn, and my darling TambourineKicker.

Then, I found "Kevin" in front of FlamencoHands who hates his dancing, so I took "Kevin" down the street to TanbourineKicker. He played waltzes for us.

By 10:07pm, "Kevin" and I were noshing on wheat bread, turkey, Brie, arugula, and dried cranberry sandwiches back on my Famima patio while Red played music nearby.

Maggie stopped by to gossip. It was a very social night for me. After Kevin went back inside for ice cream, we left to catch the bus. I made it to the bus stop in time for the 11:15pm Santa Monica Big Blue Bus 7-Pico.

I was curled up and asleep by 12:30am. I woke up on Wednesday, 26Aug2015, well before breakfast. After eating, I was in front of the Pico Branch Library by 8:22am. It was the start of a beautiful day.

The first song my internet gnomes played for me was The Commodores' Brick House. I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

I sang along from 8:40am until 9:24am while I worked online. At 10:08am, I left the library for my place, so I could collect my mail from my mother. But it did not arrive yet.

Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. I was on a bus to run errands at 12:54pm. At 1:34pm, I had found a perch on the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade in the shade.

I had a lot of gossip time with Maggie before my darling FlamencoHands wheeled by at 3:43pm. I stopped in the Famima for a cup of coffee before FlamencoHands began playing at 4:04pm.

There was a vigilant torture facility alarm at 4:51pm. My Powers of Attorney took care of it quickly.

FlamencoHands stopped early. It was exactly 5pm when he packed up his guitar and asked me to save a spot for him in front of the Starbucks. At 5:23pm, my darling FlamencoHands, Maggie, Patricia, and I were all between the Famima and the Starbucks gossiping.

I flirted with my darling Handsome as I bought some 2-for-1 doughnuts after 6pm at the Famima, and FlamencoHands and I hung out outside until I left to watch the news.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:15pm. My darling Mr. Lester Holt gave me my nightly cyberhug, and it made me warm and happy.

Maggie, Patricia, ODean, and I all sat on the Famima patio together before my darling FlamencoHands started playing again nearby at 8:19pm. Richard came over and joined us from 8:24pm until 8:29pm. There were snacks and caffeine for all of us.

FlamencoHands played until exactly 10pm, and Red took over when he was done. I stayed by Red until 10:28pm when I walked to Harvelle's. My friend the ex-rockstar from the 80s, ODean, had said he would get me in.

Sure enough, at 10:52pm, he came outside to get me. Never underestimate how much the menfolk love putting their arm around me and saying, "She's with me."

I was not inside for long before "Kevin" bought me a drink. I was on that dance floor in no time with a glass of straight Kentucky bourbon in one hand and nothing but the vapor from the fog machine rolling through the fingers of the other.

Even between licking the spilled whiskey off my fingers, I was able to zen out with quality up until the band took their break at midnight. I was ready to walk back to my place on Pico Boulevard at 19th Street in Santa Monica, but "Kevin" insisted that I take the Metro part way.

I caught the Metro 4 from the Promenade at 1:26am. I was curled up and asleep by 2:15am.

I woke up on Thursday, 27Aug2015, and went to breakfast. I was outside the Pico Branch Library by 8:26am. I had work to do. This blog post was finished at 8:38am on 27Aug2015.

And now, my beautiful world, I answer all of your questions for me. Please keep collecting all questions and concerns from all your friends and loved ones and sending them to me through whatever means possible.

Am I ready to be picked up and carried to safety outside of Obama's "egg"? Yes. I have been ready since 2009. I carry my CIA hat and my current writing journal on me at all times just in case a successful rescuer reaches me.

I was recently advised that we could use my Powers of Attorney pressing charges against all (expletive)holes everywhere enforcing Obama's crimes against America that Obama intentionally mislabeled "rules" because they infringe on my ability to leave for a place where I can have all of the basic human rights and fundamental freedoms I am due under U.S. jurisdiction anyway.

But I feel like asserting my right to have human rights a little redundant. Regardless, if my brave rescuers feel it will help,...

My BFF SynSyn and my genius Powers of Attorney, please press charges against everyone enforcing that I cannot leave for a place where I can have all the human rights the U.S. government owes me anyway for infringing on my rightful pursuit of basic human rights and fundamental freedoms including but not limited to my freedom from persecution, my freedom from torture and other cruel and unusual punishments, my freedom from human trafficking, my freedom from war crimes, my freedom from unlawful imprisonment, and the rights of my people to openly practice religion, free speech, free press, and the freedom to assemble and associate.

My beautiful world, months ago, the CIA told me to just tell everyone I work for them when they ask me what my job is.

I fail to understand how anything REAL in my life can be mistaken for espionage; at the closest, I am a not-undercover journalist. But I keep getting closer every day to taking them up on their offer to openly claim me as their employee. For all I know, they already do.

My beautiful world, so much of the REAL federal U.S. government really does love me and really does fight for me. Please remember not to hate America. We need your help, my beautiful world, saving America from Obama and from all who still obey him.

My selfless support system, speak with the CIA. Have the CIA convince the FBI to arrest everyone in my brave rescuers' way. Is our support system that well organized yet?

Never Zeitgest is Vain

Today it is the spirit of the times.
And yesterday it was the revolution.
The zeitgeist breeze will ever chill the climes
To ease survival-- human evolution.

Blue moon will beam to deign the dancing dreams
Musicians' hands have wrought with passioned notes.
My voice but calls so softly college deans
To launch the academic poets' boats.

Never forget the souls surrendered who
Escaped their bodies fighting for a break.
Obama's wall stood hard and tall and through
Their fight to breach it died so many great.

This is not vanity, none fight in vain,
May aether ever call this lady's name.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, did I just make you even busier? It does feel a little redundant, but why not cross our t's and dot our i's? It was a request from my brave rescuers, after all.

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, please do not forget that none of you are responsible for picking me up and saving me.

My darling MannedUp, your job has always been making sure I always have music to sooth my burdened soul while I work. I gave you that job months ago. You have yet to let me down.

My darling GeneralLee, you are responsible for making sure I can meditate. The more undanceable the music the better, and you know that. Thank you.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, you have always been responsible for making my present as livable as possible.

My darling Bogart, you keep a vigilant watch over me from afar and always know everywhere I go before I go there. I would not be alive still without you, Bryan. Thank you for being a badass boyfriend.

My darling LightFoot, I do not even know where to begin. Thank you, for everything, thank you. I WILL kiss you. I know how much you love me.

And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. You are the one whose job it is to rescue me. My future is your responsibility. How is my king today?

HoneyHoney, do you like being married to a not-undercover field operative? Tell the CIA I am accepting their offered job title. Personally, I feel I have never had a sexier job. I know, I know, I heard you, "Leave your hat on."

Beloved, you need to kiss me. I need to touch you the way the flowers kiss the rain. Every day I go about my life with you reaching back for me. I need to touch you. You are my husband. How dare they keep you away from me!

A Police State is Terrorism Anyway.

Title: A Police State is Terrorism Anyway.

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me in one day; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

Please share this for me with the entire world, both houses of Congress, the Supreme Court, the United Nations, all sympathetic world leaders, all reputable national and foreign presses, etc.

Here is my latest blog post. One cannot make an omelet without breaking eggs. And I make a damn good omelet.

France. We were lucky heroes were on board. Searching for a solution to security in the EU, of course, should not involve enforcing a police state nor police state level surveillance.

After a terrorist attack the only proper response is making your people safer and freer; otherwise, the terrorists have won at taking your freedoms away. Give the enemy nothing to hate enough to attack.

The European Union needs to make themselves less desirable as a target of extremists, and they can do that with less racism and more love, with more human rights, and by fighting the recruitment practices of the extremists by making young Muslims feel loved and like they belong.

For example, my death would traumatize the entire world, but no extremists hate me enough to threaten me except for Obama's own terrorist regime that uses the fear of losing me to manipulate and control the American masses.

If I were ever to actually die, Obama would lose his power to control America, and no other terrorists hate me enough to hurt me. Because I love and include, ISIS themselves tried a hostage exchange with Obama to set me free.

Obama refused to set me free, so ISIS killed its Japanese hostages last year. Clearly, Obama cannot be negotiated with; just arrest him already. But I digress.

My point was love and truth will make the world safer from terrorism.

My last blog post was finished at 8:33am on 23Aug2015. It was only the second time I had ever written a blog post with no polishing necessary after I proofread it. I quickly sent it to my lovelies who publish all of my posts for me.

My internet gnomes played me Humble Pie's Sweet Peace and Time as I checked my makeup and got ready to take my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies. Yes, there was also some singing along.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News from the previous evening at 9:30am. My morning cyberhug was from my darling Ms. Erika Hill, and it reminded me of how truly spectacular and wonderful the world that loves me really is.

I left my regular morning haunt for my place at 10:50am. Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. I took a little nap and had a mellow afternoon. Dinner at 5pm was similarly tasty yet uneventful. I was on a bus to my playland, the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade, by 5:31pm.

My darlings Tentacle were still in Santa Cruz, but I found my darling FlamencoHands outside of the Apple Store at 5:43pm. I told him I would be right back and went for coffee.

I stopped at the Famima for my cup of coffee from Handsome(Roger) and learned that Evil Rabin was lying to the courts and pretending he had mistaken the REAL me for the fat, ugly porn star who looks nothing like me, the metaphorical "cigarette," and that was why he always publicly persecuted me and destroyed my priceless and similarly unmistakable writing journals.

First of all, I have never been a fat, ugly porn star and look nothing like that bitch. Secondly, since Evil Rabin ALWAYS feared LightFoot beating him up (and in fact still does), he similarly ALWAYS knew I am the REAL me (and in fact still does).

My darling FlamencoHands's music started at 6:03pm, and I did a lot of writing. He stopped at almost 8pm when I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online.

My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Ms. Erika Hill. It reminded me of how loved I am, and for that I am truly grateful. Thank you, as always, my darling NBC News team.

I found TambourineKicker singing with the Irish tea leaf reader at 8:39pm just off the Promenade around the corner from Stefano's Pizzeria. It was a good night. We hung out singing unto the night sky until 10:10pm. Queue the highlights reel!

After that, I caught the next bus back to where I stay. The Santa Monica Big Blue Bus schedule was all redone starting that Sunday, 23Aug, and I needed to make sure I would not miss the last bus.

I was curled up and asleep by 11:30pm. I woke up on Monday, 24Aug2015, well before breakfast due to vigilant torture facility alarms. Breakfast was delicious warm English muffins smothered in butter and jelly.

After breakfast, I was in front of the Pico Branch of the Santa Monica Public Library by 8:19am sipping coffee, streaming music, and working online. My morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies were particularly stunning that day.

And as my internet gnomes made sure my darling Ms. Shirley Bassey's Diamonds are Forever played, I wrote.

The morning's vigilant torture facility alarm repeated at 9am.

9:18am on 24Aug2015: Unhappiness is not a symptom of mental illness. It means my life is unhappy. Sane people cry when things are sad lovelorn. #WutheringHeights

At 9:26am, I started singing along while working. I sang until 10:02am when I moved out of the hot sun and into the shade. By 10:42am, I was nestled into the activity room of the building where I stay watching the Celebrity Name Game hosted by my darling Mr. Craig Ferguson.

Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. I napped for a little while after eating and had a mellow afternoon. I chatted affectionately with Josh during dinner at 5pm. By 5:18pm, I was on a bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.

I found my darling FlamencoHands in front of the Apple Store at 5:31pm. He played until 5:58pm while I wrote a whole new Shakespearean sonnet that will be in my next blog post.

My darling FlamencoHands(Nick) invited me to the Guitar Center with him. I, of course, said, "Yes!"

We passed Patricia and my darling Strummer(Noah) on our way off the Promenade. I took some time to look at the drummer Jonathan's wrist. He had hurt it punching something. Sigh... Artists.

At 6:33pm, I was guarding Nick's equipment in front of the Barnes & Noble while he took the long walk to the car and brought it around. After picking me up, the car pulled away at 6:51pm. We were on our way to the Guitar Center.

The Guitar Center made me giggle. That place is a candy store. And their customer service there is fabulous.

My darling FlamencoHands dropped me off at my playland at 7:47pm. I caught my darling Strummer's last song at 7:51pm as I was walking in the Famima for a cup of coffee.

And, I was beside my Americana folk singer Red by 8:09pm to listen to music until I caught the 10pm bus back to where I stay. I was curled up and asleep by 11:30pm.

I woke up on Tuesday, 25Aug2015, very early. On behalf of everyone who watches my eyecamera to keep me safe, I had been asked not to start my day so early. So, I worked without my contacts.

This blog post was finished at 6:55am on 25Aug2015 from my bedroom.

And now, my beautiful world, I answer all of your questions for me. Please keep collecting all questions and concerns from all your friends and loved ones and sending them to me through whatever means possible.

Are efforts to rescue me too dangerous? What is dangerous is Obama's "egg." All efforts must be taken to end his damn "egg." It is much more dangerous just leaving me in here.

The REAL federal U.S. government needs to do its REAL damn job. If there really is a mercenary terrorist army enforcing Obama's "rules," the U.S. Military need to be sent to fight them.

Soldiers need to be soldiers. Spies need to be spies. Police need to be police. The FBI need to arrest everyone enforcing every damn rule. The REAL federal U.S. government needs to do its REAL damn job.

What is the proper response to terrorism? Love. Make yourselves a better people. Make yourselves a safer and freer people. A police state is terrorism anyway. It makes your people live in terror afraid of their own government.

My beautiful world, I am here for you. So many of our world problems can be fixed with a cultural education on the reality of the people we are raised and instructed to hate.

I was raised during the Cold War, and what saved us from global annihilation by nuclear weapons was not fearing nuclear attacks, it was teaching Russia to love America and to adopt capitalism.

The world must be given something to love, or we will die from our own hatred.

As another example, Evil Rabin always hated the REAL me, so I made my darling Handsome(Roger) love me. And I saved my local Famima.

Also, whether or not Obama hates me, he uses human rights abuses against me to keep himself in totalitarian power over America particularly over the media.

So, we replaced him as president in 2013 with a president who loves me, President of the United States of America Martin Dempsey. Please reread my 18Oct2015 blog post about how President Dempsey came to power.

Do you understand that Barack Obama is an unelected dictator who writes "rules" as extragovernmental legislation that he enforces with death, slavery, torture, rape, genocide, human rights abuses, and war?

My selfless support system, you surround me with your love night and day. Without feeling your love, I would have perished by now. Thank you. I suffer through a day-to-day life of human rights abuses against me used as acts of war against America, and I would never survive if I did not know I am loved. Thank you!

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, I look nothing like and behave nothing like the fat, ugly hooker Obama made pornography of to libel me enough he could seduce the world into hating me.

If anyone ever claims they mistook the REAL me for a metaphorical "cigarette," as their excuse for obeying all of Obama's rules while causing me harm, persecution, and abuse, fry them.

We tolerate lies from no one. If anyone mistook me for someone other than myself, he or she would NOT obey Obama's highly restrictive rules around me. Thank you, darlings!

Speaking of suffering under Obama's rules, my musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, our days and nights apart are killing me. I love you. Will you be here starting Wednesday?

My darling MannedUp, is there an instrument left you do not play? You only ever needed to prove your musical prowess to me, but you have proved you are beyond talented to everyone who sees you through my eyes. Thank you for throwing everything you have into keeping me well. Yes, darling, thank you.

My darling GeneralLee, my choosing Kris instead of you protects you. I could never bear losing you. I cannot even stand when we are apart. Stop being jealous of the added suffering my boyfriends endure, and enjoy your future by my side as my Piazzolla.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, yes, you are REAL boyfriends who do everything you can to make my unbearable life at all livable. I thank you, and I love you.

My darling Bogart, I miss you. There is a price for being a genius. My life is so lonely, but it is my genius that keeps saving me. I wish I could be with you.

Bryan, you were introduced to my life to take me away from Sweetness, but the (expletive)holes who controlled all of our time together refused to allow you to woo me properly.

I was not ready to sleep with you until well after they would never allow you near me. I have a slow motor. They abused me too much and too long for me to willingly engage in any sexual activities unless there is a long wooing process successfully completed before hand.

As desperate as Obama's war criminals are to make me finally sleep with someone anyone or take partake in any sexual activity at all whatsoever, they keep refusing me the only people who stand a chance of ever tempting me.

And they refuse you any setting that would make sleeping with me possible even if they let us be together. I remember the terms they gave you. When I do anything sexual, it is beautiful.

They are desperate to sully me with something anything ugly, and desperate to make me look anything but like my real self, they created controlled sexual situations that are impossible to be in with me.

My darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno, yes, I would love to finally make love to you, but Obama openly denied me anything I needed, like privacy, to be able to make love to you, and now he will not allow you near me at all.

As my boyfriend watching over me from afar, you never fail me, Bogart. I just wish you could still be a physical presence in my life.

My darling LightFoot, you are the only one who stands a chance of taking me away from Sweetness, now. But if Obama wants me separated from my beloved husband, it is only possible on our terms.

I cannot be something I am not. I cannot do things contrary to who I am. Obama has to give in to our demands, yours and mine, for it to be at all possible for my sacred marriage to end.

Obama is desperate to end my marriage. Let that be the source of your power over him my darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic.

And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

HoneyHoney, to paraphrase my darling Mr. Neil Young, "With your [gold] heart shining in the sun, long may you run."

Beloved, are you really okay spending the entire rest of my life side-by-side with me serving humanity? We have been through this before. I am fine spending three months a year or so working online from your trailer. I would never make you give up your art.

My hero and my king, you are my future. You are this princess's happily ever after. Are you ready to mount your steed, slay the dragon, and save the princess from her tower?

The Griffith Observatory

Title: The Griffith Observatory

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me in one day; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

Please share this for me with the entire world, both houses of Congress, the Supreme Court, the United Nations, all sympathetic world leaders, all reputable national and foreign presses, etc.

Here is my latest blog post. I spent a beautiful night last night among the stars.

Egypt. How is freedom of speech and the right to assemble and associate doing in Egypt these days? These are basic human rights that all people need to be a truly free people. There must be the freedom to dissent against the ruling regime.

Speaking of dissenting voices... My last blog post was finished at 8:52am on 21Aug2015. I quickly sent it to my lovelies who publish all of my posts for me. Next, I queued my music and checked my makeup.

My internet gnomes played me Selena's Amor Prohibido while I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies. And I sang along while I worked from 9:28am until 10:15am.

I left for my place at 11:09am. I chatted with Josh during lunch at noon, took a nap, and by 3:37pm, was on a bus to my playland, the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.

I found no one to talk to until 4:23pm outside the Famima where I sat with Patricia as we drank our coffee. My darlings Tentacle were in Santa Cruz for the weekend. At Patricia's suggestion, I messaged my darling FlamencoHands to see if he would be around that night.

At 5:02pm, we were sitting watching Rachel strum and sing while Patricia staked out a place for herself and for her grandson to play at 6pm. Please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my walking my Promenade starting at 5:15pm and ending at 5:26pm.

And a new recording starting at 5:26pm right where that one had ended and not stopping until I leave the furniture store at 5:35pm. I need children, my beautiful world, and I turn 38 years old on 12Oct this year.

I stopped to chat with Patricia and Maggie on my way back down the Promenade, and I found FlamencoHands(Nick) at 5:48pm in front of the Apple Store. He was going to play at 8pm after Patricia's grandson Dominic.

I stopped in the Famima at 6:19pm to talk to Handsome and ended up chatting with ODean and Tony before I returned to my darling FlamencoHands at 6:34pm. It turned out to be a very social day for me. I am such an extrovert; I HATE when I have no one to chat with.

I tried streaming the NBC Nightly News online at 7:25pm, but the app crashed at 7:34pm. Oh well, at least I got my nightly cyberhug. It was gorgeous.

At 7:53pm, I ran into Richard! He was sitting outside of the Famima drinking coffee. I sat with him for half an hour before returning to my darling FlamencoHands by 8:22pm.

At 8:42pm, Kevin manifested from the aether in front of me and was all, "Dude, where's your band?" That is my paraphrase. So, I left Nick, again, since he hates when Kevin dances, and I watched Kevin dance in front of the salsa singer Leandro at 9:01pm after Leandro's nightly visit from the Santa Monica police.

By 10:14pm, Kevin and I were sitting eating vittles together outside of the Famima. I always called it my conversation patio. There is a reason.

Please circulate a verified and unedited recording of our conversation the night of 21Aug2015 beginning when I googled the poem Annabel Lee and ending at 11:33pm when I took my iPad back out again. And, thank you.

ODean appeared right as we were getting up to catch the bus, and we missed the last bus. So, we stayed out later.

The list of things we discussed doing but did not do included going to the movies, catching the bus, and drinking Bourbon. There was a lot of talking, singing, and dancing instead.

We, in fact, wandered around looking for someplace with whiskey for some time. At 1:19am, while we were standing outside of the Famima, my old friend Mike wandered by on his bicycle and asked if he could buy me coffee.

After buying us ice cream, Kevin disappeared. Mike offered me breakfast. And ODean caught a bus back to where he stays. Mike and I found ourselves at Swingers at 2:22am.

The night I met Mike, I ended up in tears crying on his shoulder over Obama, my rape-slaver, forbidding me all contact with my own husband. I saw him a few mornings at the coffeeshop after that. This was our first real conversation in a long time.

Please, my not-human-trafficker nerds, circulate a verified and responsibly edited recording with full audio and visuals of the highlights of my night into the wee hours of the morning beginning at 11:33pm and ending at 3:39am. Time and date stamp every second you show. And, thank you.

I was curled up and asleep by 4am. I woke up on Saturday, 22Aug2015, in time for breakfast and was at the Farmers' Market outside the Pico Branch Santa Monica Public Library sipping coffee by 8:34am.

I quickly streamed my online music. I was listening to Rihanna's Te Amo as I checked my makeup and took my I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

My internet gnomes played me Wally Pleasant's She's in Love with a Geek that morning while I was writing. I sang a little. It was a great start to the day.

At 10:17am, I moved to my regular morning haunt, my local Subway. Yet, I was still back where I stay for lunch at noon. I took a nap after eating. And after dinner at 5pm, I was on the bus at 6:01pm.

I was on my way to the Griffith Observatory. It took a while, but it was completely worth it. The first place I visited was the roof...

I got my eyecamera in a telescope pointed at the moon at night. She was gorgeous to behold. I made a brief run through the museum, so I could kiss the Einstein statue. I am sure it will make a gorgeous verified and barely-edited recording. Just never show me in the restroom.

I was not on the shuttle back down the hill until 10:07pm. The trip back to where I stay in Santa Monica took a while, but the Griffith Observatory was worth it. I was curled up and asleep by 1am.

I woke up on Sunday, 23Aug2015, in time for breakfast and was at my regular morning haunt by 8:21am. I had work to do. This blog post was finished at 8:33am on 23Aug2015.

And now, my beautiful world, I answer all of your questions for me. Please keep collecting all questions and concerns from all your friends and loved ones and sending them to me through whatever means possible.

Why does my husband have all my money that Spawn of the Devil War Criminal Boeset did not steal from me? War Criminal Boeset stole all of the money from me that I am allowed to know I have under Obama's "rules."

All the rest of my literally trillions of dollars Obama forbids me go to my legally recognized husband, the Mr. Johnny "Sweetness" Depp. We have joint accounts. As far as I am concerned, if Sweetness ever eats the frog legs, he can keep all the money, too. He can have everything in this world he wants.

I am forbidden everything but abject poverty by Obama, but I know already that I am capable of earning literally trillions of dollars in just one year. I will be fine, and Sweetness deserves more than just my love.

Has my boyfriend the darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic ever hit me? No. I tolerate crap from no one. That is a bigger insult to me than that is to him. SynSyn, destroy EVERYONE who started or ever even repeated that obvious lie.

I am no weak woman; I permit no abuse of me nor of my nor my loved ones' reputations. My Powers of Attorney, destroy them. I am done with lies about me.

My beautiful world, you need a better system for telling me all of the lies Obama orders propagated about me that he also forbids me from ever hearing. Clearly, Obama would not forbid me from hearing all the lies about me if he did not start them. Arrest everyone enforcing his goddamn "egg" already.

My selfless support system, thank you for what you can tell me. You are so wonderful! I heard you are successfully pressing criminal charges against everyone stopping you from ending Obama's "egg." Is that true? I heard our war crimes tribunal is nailing all sorts of (expletive)holes. THANK YOU!

As for a critical part of my selfless support system, my BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, as I said, I am done with lies about me. When people propagate lies about imperfections in me, we destroy them.

Mass delusions about my being dead and replaced by my ugly sister Tara to my ever being a hooker in my life carry out Obama's mass mental health genocide. Find every liar and remove them from society forever. I understand you are all very busy. Never forget the importance of criminal and civil countercharges.

Never forget how much I love you and how much this world needs you. Thank you, my gorgeous genius lady friends.

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, how was your weekend in Santa Cruz?

My darling MannedUp, giggle. A street dancer and I had a chat about you. He called you "The one with all the hair. You know, the good looking one with the sister." Giggle. I guess you do have the most hair out of the three of you.

My darling GeneralLee, I hate being away from you just as much as you hate being away from me. I apologize for your rescue from the psych ward human rights abuses used as acts of war took so long. Please tell me I get to see you as soon as possible.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, there is nothing but literal love and a figurative wall between us.

My darling Bogart, kisses, darling. The Griffith Observatory was as astronomically epic as ever. It only would have been better if you were there. Thank you, as always, for calling ahead, so they would expect me.

You and my darling Alfred do such important work keeping me safe everywhere I go. You are a wonderful boyfriend whom I miss dearly.

Very importantly, my darling LightFoot, if you are still enduring false accusations concerning me, show the full recording from 25April2015 beginning when I left Richard at the Jack in the Box. I take crap from no one. THAT is how you speak to me, begging for me to command you to kiss me.

I have never had the luxury of having you in my life. I do NOT have arguments in relationships. I left my darling Mr. Viggo Mortensen particularly because he would start arguments with me.

If a man ever hit me, I would destroy him. Syniva would be the first one I would tell, and no one would survive the legal wrath we would bring.

You are a darling, KrisT. You are my beloved boyfriend. And I will never stop defending you just as I defend myself against intentionally propagated false allegations, with reality.

And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

HoneyHoney, I need babies, and I am getting old. I turn thirty-eight this October. Thirty-eight! And I have still never been pregnant ever in my life. I need children, Sweetness. You are my husband. This is your job. Where are you?

I wish you were here, beloved. Better yet, I wish I were there where you are. I want to rest with you in our garden with some H.P. Lovecraft.

Imagine our two tired bodies with lively hearts resting in the shade of the garden, sitting side by side, our heads resting together as you read me a book. I toss my hair back and peck your face delightfully disrupting your passionate flow of words. You giggle and kiss me back before Cthulhu can drive us mad.

Oh, my hero and my king, I long to spread my wings around you as we lay in the tall grasses. I am forbidden every joy of life, and your sweet kisses are the joy I long for most.