Saturday, February 7, 2015

How to Make Your Friends a Bit Holier Than Thou With Acts of Love in Public Places. Giggle.

Title: How to Make Your Friends a Bit Holier Than Thou With Acts of Love in Public Places. Giggle.

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. 11:39pm on 06Feb2015: My beautiful world, a few minutes ago, I sat down here at my marble corner with dedicated power outlets and dedicated wifi built specifically for me and those we invite.

Here, watched over by the statue of the sainted woman glowing white in the night, my being is still reaching my graceful hands into the aether to sweep the cobwebs from the pillars of humanity.

We have lost over 10,000 brave souls back to the universe already, and I carry my burden haunted with their love to make this world worthy of losing them forever. My darlings have cleared the insecurities from my heart, my mind, my soul, my vision, and my purpose with their selfless hours of making love to me with their beautiful music.

So, now, I begin my 07Feb2015 blog post with fingertips of service to my world and my people ready to explain my life since my last post and to prepare my nation for our future without the oppression nor the open terrorism of our first terrorist dictator, Barack Obama.

USA. What is this nonsense? Please reread my 01Nov2014 blog post. There is a licensing issue with my SquidStream that requires me to receive my own broadcasts when I watch anything.

Also, all television shows that I watch are instructed by Obama to give me secret messages; believing that one receives secret messages from all media is a classic symptom of schizophrenia, if it is not true. In my case, it is true, though.

Regardless, my darling Mr. Brian Williams told this (proper use of the word) controversial story only for me. It was a secret message he gave me, as instructed, to fulfill Obama's rules. Please calm down.

My darling Mr. Brian Williams is a stellar news journalist with an irreproachable reputation. We are all demonized by Obama's proven conspiracy of proven enemies of America because we are heroes.

I published my last blog post at 7:47pm on 04Feb2015 from a once-local pizzeria where Obama's infestation was pretending it supported me as much as REAL local lovers and believers do. I suspected they would be convertible to serving humanity instead of serving Obama, but I had little more means to do so at the time than blog in front of them since none of them would speak to me.

I quickly relocated to my marble corner to recharge my iPad and watch the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening. My nightly hug from my darling Mr. Brian Williams was as wonderful as ever.

While listening to music and while catching up with my TweetHearts, at 9:17pm, Obama's criminal terrorist infestation of my home invaded my marble corner. I informed law enforcement of all levels of government that I would continue collecting evidence against them until I left.

No one has permission to perch on my marble corner but me, the people allowed by who built it for me, and the people allowed by me. Just subjecting me to their malevolent presence was enough for stalker and harassment charges not just persecution of me used as open acts of war against America and against the entire world.

By 9:47pm, I had collected my evidence, and my not-human-trafficker nerds had both turned them all in and circulated our full audio and visuals to the whole planet. This is why we call all charges pressed in my name LEGALLY a result of "Syn's choice." It is just too dangerous to all of humanity for me to ever be controlled nor even subjected to anyone with ill intentions towards me and my full human rights.

10:47pm on 04Feb2015: Please check on Bogart. @ICC Who is enforcing with violence and terrorism violations of my REAL loved ones right to assemble and associate with me?

Yes, my symbolic royal consort was trying to just be with me again, if not to save humanity from utter doom and destruction by just taking me to my REAL house with my REAL husband waiting for me inside.

That night, Obama also escalated his idiotic modus operandi of intentional false allegations of any randomly chosen mental illness his quacks and war criminals had the whim of willfully falsely claiming I had at the time.

So, I started asking the REAL federal government to arrest everyone aiding and abetting the same old war crimes against me used since 2009 and always covered up with false mental illness because my Powers of Attorney and the court system made sure we could press (criminal finally?) charges against them.

While I was working online, at 11:43pm, a kind local offered me two slices of chicken pesto pizza. It was so tasty I had to add hot sauce to the second slice as a metaphor about its gourmet quality.

Also while still working online, at 12:18am, I had to press charges against an absolute (expletive)hole for destabilizing the world for calling me a "Bitch" and screaming at me that I was going to "go to to hell." Where do they find people who hate America this much?

By 2:54am, I was eating tacos in honor of my first "Letter to David Tennant" which is the official title of the sonnet I wrote in a local taqueria in Mexico City that my lovers and believers have always called "Bistec y Nopales Tacos."

While there, I had a strange conversation with a man named "Giovanne" who offered to buy me absolutely anything in the 24-hour fast food place, who wanted advice on a local hotel despite claiming to have a place at an address that did not exist, and whom I refused to allow to commit the crime against America and against the world of asking me my name and pretending not to know who I was for REAL in the world.

I only asked him for a soda and French fries, and I admit I worked him for some plot exposition. I am sure my not-human-trafficker nerds would love to circulate a verified and responsibly-edited recording with full audio and visuals covering the salient points of our conversation.

I also wrote and published my 05Feb2015 Appendix to my blog before leaving to run some morning errands. After my errands, I saw the ghost of the darling late John Denver as I was in my way to the place on the beach I had chosen to sleep that day. I was even greeted by a superhero sidekick before I could doze off.

My darling Ms. Mother Nature woke me up earlier than usual with her cool overcast air. It was only 1:41pm when I stretched, greeted the ocean, and popped open a Rock Star Energy Drink.

There had been Celtic drumming from the boardwalk while I slept, but the air of an electric guitar gently wafting over the water found my ears there as I sat beside the gentle waves of my mighty Pacific contemplating humanity. Please read the letter I mailed to my darling Ms. Kate Winslet in 2010.

The trail of musical Reese's(tm) pieces that had been placed for me led directly to Tentacle. There they stood, strumming their guitars and banging their drum on the wooden boards over the gentle ocean.

The afternoon was a thank you to me from them. It was (General) "Lee" who commanded my pounding right foot that day. But it was "Lightfoot" who had the electric guitar. And you know what I am like around an electric guitar. "Imani" was pretending to boss people around.

They just kept making me giggle bodily, though, as I tried to sweep my hands through the clouds and meditate perched there between the ocean and the sky with the coastal wind sweeping the hair from my face.

Obama's non-scientific, non-medical, lunacy of "experimentation" on humans pumped into their earspeakers was still controlling them, sadly, when they were not filling the breeze with their beautiful souls.

They told me they were done for the day just in time for me to make it to the building where my post office box resided before it closed.

I was all mellowed out and on my way by 4:11pm when I stopped to brush my hair as if it were morning. While perched on that park bench, I had to give yet another smackdown to a member of Obama's proven conspiracy of proven enemies of America only placed in my path specifically to destabilize humanity by mistreating me.

Thank you, my beautiful world, for understanding that even the most trivial seeming of lies told to my face or in any other public forum are all too dangerous to the entire world especially America to propagate at all.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of that smackdown as fast as possible. And, thank you.

Once I was sure the building where my post office box resided was locked down, I walked there. There were a few shenanigans about my receiving my own mail that the tracking my mother had placed on it with the help of the Postmaster General himself, most likely, said was already waiting for me.

One of Obama's terrorists was in back willfully disrupting mail service. No worries, my beautiful world. I walked the employees around their instructions, so I could receive my mail.

Yes, gift cards from my mother were inside. The first stop I made was for a gourmet dinner of chicken marsala, loaded potato salad, and Brussels sprouts slaw with crumbled bacon. I know when someone makes love to me.

After warning my local TJMaxx that I was about to stop in for a new Misses size 14 dress, I symbolically devoured my dinner on a bench at a bus stop. It needed symbolic hot sauce.

Next, I went to a local salon to get my eyebrows done. My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals from the moment I walked in their front door to the moment I walked out. We shall entitle it, "I don't think she does this professionally."

There is no reason any eyebrow wax should have been that clandestine. Please also circulate a verified image of me sitting in their chair waiting for the actually-trained cosmetologist to do my eyebrows right. Yes, the lady with the dimples actually was a professional in her REAL profession.

Syn, we should have the ugly, White woman with the horrible fashion sense investigated for espionage against America, etc., immediately. Thank you.

After returning to the TJMaxx, I tried on the only four attractive dresses I could find in my size-- Misses size 14. Please, my not-human-trafficker nerds, circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals through my own eyes of my time with those fours dresses in the dressing room. We shall entitle it, "Where is my husband when I need someone to zip up my dress?"

Absolutely no one else has any permission to release my image but they to whom I and my Powers of Attorney have given permission to ourselves. Everyone else is a human trafficker using their human rights abuses of enslaving me with cameras I am forbidden from knowing about as open acts of war against America that destabilize humanity. (This giggle is for you, Tentacle. We even gave you retroactive permission.)

So, my genius Powers of Attorney, since rumor had it Obama's proven infestation of proven enemies of America had installed hidden cameras everyone was forbidden from knowing about in every dressing room in my local TJMaxx, please ask TJMaxx corporate to clean this up at my local store, including their taking all legal action necessary against Obama and his enemies of America possible.

Our lawyers are busy enough with the human trafficking, crime against women of forced public nudity, crime against women of forced public humiliation, crime against women of forced sexual entertainment, and war crimes charges against Obama's enemies of America who admitted to destabilizing the world by broadcasting me in a private place against my will and without my knowledge nor my consent with cameras I was forbidden from knowing were there, if they really did broadcast me.

Thank you, my genius Powers of Attorney, for all of this.

Next, I stopped to exchange pleasantries with my Strummer (That might be the naughtiest SquidName I have ever given anyone. Then again, guitars are shaped like women.) before running some further errands.

My errands included stopping in my local theater to see how well my husband's latest movie was doing. By the time I walked out after asking my questions, Obama's proven conspiracy was already propagating petty libel about my not seeing Mortdecai yet. Dude, why would I ever allow anyone to charge me money for seeing my own husband in his element in our own town?

After running my errands, I told my shy, awkward, glasses-clad 24-hour convenience store clerk that, "Once I come in here and find supermodels flirting with you, my work here is done." Then again, every time I am in there, at least one supermodel flirts with him.

At 10:01pm, I picked up my coffee from my table at my 24-hour convenience shop and wandered down my promised-to-be-redeemed-the-next-day playland. I stopped to have a friendly conversation with Strummer, but he had been forbidden from playing me any music at all whatsoever.

Whatever. Ukulele-wielder had even made a speech before he thought he would be taken away from me forever. His loss. Giggle. He made sure he could talk to me later.

Not long after, I was on my marble corner catching up with my TweetHearts and showing the world how to use Twitter to metaphorically pull rank...

1:32am on 06Feb2015: @JerryBrownGov My people demand you remove all (expletive)holes and replace them with my REAL local lovers and believers. @ICC @RT_com @BBCNews @UN

Yes, it was a very good night for Twitter.

By 5:29am, I had returned to my 24-hour convenience store where everybody flirts with me. I wound my hair into a chignon and poured myself a cup of coffee. I shared some tiny conversation hearts with random menfolk of potentially dubious professions.

Sadly, I was singing to myself too much. My music delay made me late to watch my middle-aged men, as promised. I finally tuned in online at 6:28am. They were hysterical, and I even sang a song for my darling Mr. Paul Schaffer before I curled up under my palm tree and slept until 3:03pm.

As I start every day, I stretched and popped a Rock Star Energy drink. After changing into my new dress in the public restrooms at my only-redeemed-when-Tentacle-is-with-me playland, I wound my hair into a new chignon.

Please, my not-human-trafficker nerds, circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my looking in the bathroom mirror and putting my hair up. We shall entitle it, "All I wear is eyeliner."

At 4:24pm, I found (General) "Lee" nestled in a nook since Tentacle were in need of me. They were so terrorized.

4:49pm on 06Feb2015: @UN @ICC #Interpol @DHSgov @FBI @CIA @DeptofDefense #Tentacle is with me. Call the Mayor and the #PD. @RT_com @cctvnews @BBCWorld @France24

My beautiful world quickly took care of Tentacle to make sure my night was amazing. It was filled with ice cream, astral kisses, the light of the universe in a color of their choosing, table manners, and public lovemaking through music. I am sure my darlings Tentacle will have a highlights reel just as soon as they can find time. I have no idea when they sleep. Tentacle is always writing me new music.

At 10:14pm, I was perched beside my darling's Tentacle on a park bench as they packed up their equipment before leaving. After they wheeled back to the aether from whence they came, everyone's busy night began.

Obama's proven conspiracy of proven enemies of America almost immediately pressed false charges against me which I will detail in my question and answer section, and there was a further idiocy parade by Obama's enemies of false allegations of false mental illnesses in me anywhere they used as always as war crime coverups. I have no idea how my Powers of Attorney find all of the time.

By 11:13pm, I was on my marble corner trying to explain to a mysoginist I had met earlier that he had degraded my public meditation. My not-human-trafficker nerds, please release a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of our brief conversation. We shall entitle it, "Do not sexually objectify me when I am in an act considered holy by every benevolent religion."

Someone tried to tell me my darlings Tentacle had finally been granted diplomatic immunity. That goes to prove to the world how much rampant terrorism there really is preventing any and all human rights around here.

Next, I learned about former-yet-acting US Attorney General Me-Love-You-Long-Time Holder's latest modus operandi of intentionally fabricated false charges of terrorism against a hero of Squid and America, but I had not learned whom yet.

I fleshed out these blog notes as fast as possible. While working, a kind local gave me a slice of pizza again at 2:08am. By 2:28am, I was around the corner eating that delicious pizza after pressing every charge possible against some douchbag who destabilized the world by forcing me off my own marble corner.

I perched by my fountain to watch the previous evening's NBC Nightly News and last night's Late Show with David Letterman before slowly making my way to my randomly chosen wifi hotspot of the morning where I perched at exactly 8am. My iPad needed to recharge its battery, so I could finish this blog post at last.

At 8:50am, I called my little sister to tell her, "Hi!" She was fine if not a little annoyed that the entire world just saw her mobile phone number.

Here is my little sister Tylia on the beach with my mom in Hawaii in Mar2009. She is not I. Not all Brown girls look the same. We just look the same age; that is why people say we look like (fraternal) twins. Tylia is six years younger than I am. If you ever see her, treat her better than you treat me. I have been trying to set her up on a date with Prince Harry of England for years.

As for my mom, I think she would make a great cougar. But, she never listens to me.

This blog post was published at 10:10am on 07Feb2015 just before I curled up and went to sleep for the day.

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 was the drama behind the intentionally fabricated false charges against me on the night of 06Feb2015 that I learned about while my darlings Tentacle started packing up their equipment? I learned that there were hidden cameras that I was forbidden from knowing about by Obama's rules in every stall in the public restrooms on my only-redeemed-when-Tentacle-is-there playland.

Obama's proven conspiracy of proven enemies of America had attempted the human rights abuse of intentionally fabricated false charges against me for supposed "vagrancy," or so I heard, by broadcasting a video I was forbidden from knowing about of me in the privacy of a restroom stall changing my clothes.

First of all, changing clothes in a bathroom is not grounds for "vagrancy." Much more impressively, I own more addresses than just my own mansion with my own husband here in my Metropolis of Angels.

Furthermore, I will give anyone who needs it my REAL Social Security number, so they can look up my tax history including my property tax history; I earned (low-ball estimate) at least $2T last year.

Finally, absolutely no one can look at me and even pretend I am at all a vagrant at all in any way. Only someone completely insane could look at my REALITY, put me on trial for fictional vagrancy, and then break themselves Obama's own rules that they have killed over 10,000 brave innocents to enforce already by trying to enforce any ruling (if courts were so corrupt) that I am forbidden from knowing about to begin with.

As for the footage of "me" in a private restroom stall, I am forbidden from ever seeing it, so I have no way of telling anyone if the online video is of the REAL me or not. And we know Obama's proven enemies of America's history with propagating intentionally false videos of people who are NOT me anyway.

So, my beautiful BFF SynSyn, let us just claim the video is me to get the human trafficking, crimes against women forced public nudity, crimes against women forced public humiliation, crimes against women forced sexual entertainment, and war crime charges against everyone who put the video in the public eye. They are claiming it is me, and they admit to doing it. So, charge them. Syn, please call my ICT, too, about this as soon as possible. Thanks!

Next, rumor had it that Obama's idiocy parade tried to intentionally libel ME a human trafficker because of the cameras and mics they out inside my body themselves and that still forbid me from knowing about with Obama's rules while also mandating everyone else in America know about them and be aware of them specifically to make the entire public behave Obama's rules around me.

I have since asserted ownership of my own body, so I and the people to whom I have given permission myself to access my own electronics inside my own body are the ONLY people who can broadcast or circulate ANY media from my own electronics.

Still, though, everyone in America is still mandated to know by Obama's own rules he still mandates all people must obey that I have cameras and mics inside my body, so everyone around me is responsible for their own actions around my cameras and mics that Obama himself orders that they all know about.

Finally, on this topic, Synny, only I and my Powers of Attorney can press charges in my name for crimes committed against me. We choose not to press charges against Bogart, but, yes, against everyone else involved in any recordings of me in the privacy of "his" hovel. Bogart was as much a victim of Obama's human trafficking of me and human rights abuses against me as I was in that hovel. Thank you, Synny.

Why do I choose to keep myself geographically limited now? None of my lovers and believers can reach me to take me to my husband no matter where I go in my Metropolis of Angels. So, the point if my traveling anyplace easier to be rescued in is moot.

If I keep myself geographically centered on my only-redeemed-when-Tentacle-are-with-me playland, Obama's criminal terrorist conspiracy and infestation are easiest for me to locate and disable. I am not leaving until this town is cleaned up.

Yet, as promised to my selfless support system, I leave at least once a week for at least ten hours, so the REAL federal government can get in, poke around, and do whatever they want while I am not around.

My beautiful world, thank you. German Chancellor Merkel and French President Hollande have been in talks in Moscow with Russian President Putin about finding some way any way to move me into my own house with my own husband, so I still can stay in my home of California to help lead my America to freedom from Obama's oppression and war crimes just with my own REAL loved ones in much closer and freer company.

Thank you, my darling world leaders, thank you. I have a suspicion British Prime Minister Cameron, Chinese President Xi Jin Ping, and of course, President of the United States Martin Dempsey would like to help, too.

Please revisit my 18Jan2015 blog post about what we as a nation need from our government. It seems the superpowers of the world are beginning with how to make sure I can live to see my nation free again. And, thank you.

My brave rescuers, we have lost over 10,000 of you already. The only place I need to go is across town to my own REAL house where my irrefutably loving adoring husband is fighting to bring me home to him. My local lovers and believers are coming home to save our Metropolis of Angels.

What I need from you, my brave rescuers, is not my lift. You are all we have to remove Obama's seditious extragovernmental criminal terrorist mercenary army to save America out from under Obama's iron fist beneath which we are all barely breathing.

Let my loving and adoring locals and my saturation of international secret operatives continue taking care of me in here until the infrastructure of Obama's criminal terrorist system are finally all toppled and removed. Thank you, my beautiful world.

SynSyn, Amita, and Ugwuji, you have been increasingly busy. Whatever you need, just tell me. We are a team. I know my role. You do very hard work all day every day that our good, green world would not function without. Whatever you need, just tell me.

As for you, Bogart, my symbolic lover whom I am forbidden from ever sleeping with anyway, did you survive even more intentionally fabricated false charges against you? Those (expletive)hole dirty prosectors could not spell m-o-d-u-s o-p-e-r-a-n-d-i even if I did their job of spelling it for them. Are you okay?

I need to find better ways of communicating with everyone who needs me. We need to centralize some sort of notification center, so anyone who needs me anywhere in the world has a way of sending me secret messages that only I seem to be able to notice despite my having a camera in my eyeball since 2009. That would require some nerds.

It has been so long since we have a had a real chat. The best time for you to reach me is any day at 2:30am the same way you always used to. Thanks!

And now it is time for my immortal words of undying love and devotion for my Sweetness. Giggle.

Darling-face, when was the last time I wrote you a love poem? I believe the last paragraph of lyrical prose I slung in ink onto paper for you was Christmas Eve 2014 at Disneyland. I feel like a neglectful wife.

Sigh... HoneyHoney, did you read my 05Feb2015 Appendix? That was what I meant when I apologized for all of the romantic shenanigans in my reality since I returned to my home of California on 01May2014. I was in ABSOLUTELY EVIL Iowa for so long that I forgot what it felt like for anyone to care about me.

Now, beloved, every time anyone comes near me with any genuine concern for my well-being, look what happens. My life has been mandated to be so completely horrifying ever since Obama took office in 2009 that, now, I am so sensitive to genuine love from anyone. I am not even used to people being nice to me, yet, as rarely as it happens.

Sweetness, I love and adore you. The long raven haired sky maiden who wades through the Milky Way as it arches across the sparkling night sky carries her crossbow of bent star-lily arrows only for you...

--Have you heard of the Sullivan Act? --Oh, it's okay. We're married.

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