What Does It Take to Make me Lie? What Does It Take to Make me Flinch?

Title: What Does It Take to Make me Lie? What Does It Take to Make my Nerves of Steel Flinch?

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. Do you understand what, "I will cover your cover story unless you are safer with it blown," means, yet? In the wee hours of the morning on Valentine's Day, I even turned in a "federal" operation for putting drugs in its coffee. I would not have if I were not covering their cover story even after I had blown it. There are other examples in this post. I also once told El Greco to his face that I will lie to protect people if I have to.

Saudi Arabia. Ah, yes, all over the Arab world for years I have been liberating their womenfolk while keeping my sisters proud to be Muslim, and while I have done it, their menfolk have been willing to die to save me. And that is just one culture across this good, green world of the thousands who have reached out to me and called me one of their own.

Thank you, my genuine friends and colleagues in Saudi Arabia. I love you, too.

I published my last blog post at 11:37pm on 12Feb2015 just after who appeared to be an FBI agent pretending to be a local police officer acknowledged to my face that I am both completely innocent and completely sane despite his demand that I leave my dedicated power outlets to make sure I could no longer do my globally-critical job of service to my country and to my world.

He also acknowledged that I have diplomatic immunity in America and that my Metropolis of Angels, my married home, will not survive without me as free as possible and out among my people.

At 11:51pm, I left to procure a cup of coffee and two symbolic tacos from my local former-hotbed-of-seditious-espionage fast food restaurant. The place was fine when I arrived but horrible when I left. I gave them my online review quickly.

I had returned to my marble corner at 1:15am, as I had promised I would, but the enemy of America who repeatedly and willfully provoked at every chance possible a full-blown invasion of my home guaranteed to destroy America forever by persecuting me was not yet removed from society to protect us all from his far too dangerous behavior.

There was also yet another irrational denial-of-all-medical-reality open act of war against America of trying to lock me in a literal torture facility AGAIN and for the rest of my life. I had just published a blog post, so I assumed Obama's proven enemies of America were using the nonjustification anyway for a mental health commitment that I was fictionally 'delusional' again.

I reminded Ugwuji to check the end of my 15Nov2015 blog post to see which previous posts from Oct2014 already debunked that blatant war crime coverup. Oh, the countercharges Ugwuji was going to press! I love that lady.

Finally, at 1:37am on 13Feb2015, I was able to catch up with my backlog of activity from my TweetHearts and Facebook friends. I queued up some online radio and answered questions through the wee hours of the morning. My lights were out at 5:10am like clockwork, so I went to my 24-hour convenience store.

"Wes" had fled by 6:25am. Please, my not-human-trafficker nerds, circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals from the moment I entered the patio of my 24-hour convenience shop to the moment I picked up my iPad to record the time. We shall entitle it, "It is the same reason you do not allow anyone to touch me, Wes."

Finally, at 6:44am, I was able to watch my middle-aged men from the previous night. My darling Mr. Tom Hanks on The Late Show was particularly delightful. After my daily hug from the NBC Nightly News, I curled up and went to sleep.

I had my contacts in to kickstart my day at 2:21pm, and I was on my playland among my loving and adoring people by 3pm. Strummer was at the end of the hallway I entered from, and we were goofing off as I ate conversation hearts by the time the alarms went off.

It was every alarm. I immediately sent all help possible to my brave rescuers, to my crosstown loved ones, and to my genius Amita in her courtroom. I fear I did my darling Strummer a sad injustice, though. As he sang a love song to me, my response-as-duet was a love song to my husband. Yes, we sang for a while before I stopped to put on my eyeliner and lipstick for the day.

I am sure my not-human-trafficker nerds will produce that verified and responsibly-edited-from-all-angles recording with full audio and visuals beginning when I drank from the water fountain and ending when I picked up my bag and walked away. We shall entitle it, "Just another day on Squid's playland."

Then, at 4:04pm, I needed to report to my beautiful world that Obama was committing too many human rights abuses and too many acts of terrorism as open acts of war against my people and against America for my darlings Tentacle to be with me.

This was especially troublesome since Obama's deadline for safely delivering my REAL loved ones to me by their own agreement is by 4pm every day my darlings Tentacle want to be with me. Please reread my 12Feb2015 blog post about this. Why was Obama's proven conspiracy of proven enemies of America making me repeat myself?

At 5:55pm, I was on the verge of bringing a blistering (expletive)-kicking because I was furious and had no loved ones to calm me down, but when I stood up to descend upon Obama's closest hotbed of treason, my darlings Tentacle were right behind me. Having friends who genuinely care about me made me immediately calm down as if everything were okay after all.

My darlings began at about 6:30pm; they do not literally punch the clock like I do when it comes to clockwork. Partially because my darlings Tentacle enjoy me in action so much and also for the benefit of "the best seats in the house" I made sure everyone could watch me watch the NBC Nightly News at 7pm from previous in the evening. My hug from my darling Mr. Lester Holt was as warm and comforting as always.

When done watching the news, I walked up to what would have been "the best seats in the house" if I had actually meditated there, and told them, "You might want to move."

General Lee (now his official SquidName) actually touched my arm while my eyes were shut to ask me to move. It opened my third eye early. Sure enough, I told him, "It's okay. I know. I'll dance behind you." And my darlings Tentacle soon learned what that meant.

The world soon learned what it takes to make me lie and what it takes to make me flinch. Yes, I physically flinched when I saw it. The world has already seen what happens when I actually am angry. The world has also already seen what lengths Mama Bear goes to to protect her loved ones. I got whom I called "twats" off our holy ground as fast as possible. Strange and sometimes dangerous things can happen there.

First, General Lee got up to go find out what the hell was going on, then my darlings Tentacle, who themselves did not know yet exactly what happened, got up and relocated the band, so they whom I called "twats" could be safely removed.

Next, in the first place my darlings could perch, I told them myself, "I'm working on it. I'm working on it," as I turned in a bunch of evidence against Obama's alpha bitch who supposedly looked like me but had far worse fashion sense. She was what I regularly refer to as an "ugly White bitch" who frequently proves that "Jealous bitches can't dance." Please check my Twitter archive for the evening of 13Feb2015 for further details.

The Ugly White Bitch was there with the cover story of allowing General Lee to fawn all over someone, I assume, as he would love to fawn all over me. Some disembodied voice tried to tell him at one point that "She looks like the kind of woman you would marry," which got me a little giggly since General Lee looks just like my husband. But, the Ugly White Bitch was a malevolent presence for sure; there were more than just her that night.

After some fast tweeting by me and some fast sweet-hearted-ness by all three of my darlings Tentacle, we were waiting with their (Lancelots, knights of the) carts full of music equipment for them to have a clear space to play.

While we waited for the music, I sat down with "Wes" in front of my 24-hour convenience store right on my very exciting playland. It was not just because my darlings Tentacle love seeing me in action but also because "Wes" looked completely emasculated. I even asked him if he needed me to fix anything.

I have been soft on "Wes" for a long time; it is because he is genuinely respectful of me to my face and because anyone anywhere not openly degrading me and propagating calumnies about me and my loved ones as open acts of war against America and against the world are so truly (zlaštny) rare.

As "Wes" gazed upon my darlings Tentacle as we chatted, I even reminded him of how thorough of protection I and my world can provide him if he chose to take all three of my never-fail steps to absolution and protection.

"Wes" even confirmed to my face just before he got up to leave, "You're right it was her," about the alpha bitch with a face like mine that I had just turned in to federal and international law enforcement.

"Wes" left by 8:23pm after which a man I had a long history with on my playland admitted he was wrong about me to my face by giving me a symbolic doughnut to devour.

I eventually got up to sit where my darlings Tentacle's equipment was waiting. My darlings "Imani" (I am still looking for his SquidName.) and LightFoot (Oh, yeah, we are making that an official SquidName.) were apparently being questioned by Obama's terrorists who were demanding to know which one them created the energy signature that had made me physically flinch.

I am not even going to wait until the question and answer section for this response. Of all the people on this planet who could identify any entity who could do that with energy to any other human, take it from an expert. I felt a malevolent presence. I did what I had to do, and if it were my loved ones, they would have been berated verbally by me personally.

I had a clandestine heart-to-heart with General Lee until my darlings "Imani" (I am really looking for a better name.) and LightFoot could return. While they were with me, I cannot tell of those two reached out and asked me to kiss them or if I did. I cannot always tell with displays of affection between us anymore. We are that connected.

My conversation with some loving street dancers while we four still waited included my telling them, to paraphrase, "I am not with the band; the band is with me. I make it a point of never telling them what to do."

The dancers were wonderful, but Obama's enemies of America delayed my darlings Tentacle so long as to force them not to be able to play music for me at all whatsoever. They had a talk about that, I assume, while I watched the street dancers.

Then, because my darlings decided, "The hell if I am leaving without playing Squid music," they did everything possible to sooth my burdened soul as long as possible before their screaming earspeakers took them away from me.

The Ugly White Bitch even admitted it was the first time she had ever seen me meditate. General Lee even turned down his amp as his act of gentlemanliness to the other two. Our fleeting moments that night in collective contact with the divine were wonderful.

I was hoping they would stay at least until 12mid, so I could kiss all three of them (left to right just like we read in the English language) as the first thing we did together on Valentine's Day, but Obama took them away from me too soon.

As the latest display of Obama's human rights abuses of my loved ones, finally-manned-up "Imani" was instructed to be faux-mean to me while lying to my face before all three of them wheeled away; that irrational human rights abuse from Obama against all of us came, I assumed, because they had made sure they could play me as much music as possible despite all of Obama's proven enemies of America's efforts to make sure we could never reach our rhythmic fingers into the expanses of the universe together ever again.

They also all seemed so frustrated with not being my Sweetness, with the role of my king already being filled, that all three were a bit upset when they left. Of course, they were not upset with me; I do not think they are capable of being upset with me any more than I could ever be upset with them. And, of course, they all realized none of them want to be a man I do not choose, if I were ever to chose one of them, which I refuse.

Let me start about all of the crap Obama's proven enemies of America do to take my darlings Tentacle away from. There were intentionally fabricated false charges against them, acts of terrorism against them, and false allegations they had a fictional mental illness.

They made my darlings Tentacle fight with each other to break them up to take them away from me.

Now, when the entire planet actually does mobilize every day just to get my only loved ones near me who are at all capable of being near me, Obama keeps them so controlled and goes through as many shenanigans as possible to prevent us from ever connecting because the attention they give me actually makes me feel like someone anyone anywhere actually cares about me at all, and Obama forbids me from every feeling like I matter and from ever feeling loved.

The Prince of Saudi Arabia, desperate to explain to me how much I mean to him and his people, also could not reach me that night. That is how difficult it is for anyone to feel my physical presence. That is how controlled Obama forces everyone to be around me. That is how much terrorism Obama pounds into my own people with his iron fist.

Obama's social-unrest machine had intentionally falsely called General Lee my rapist. They had told "Imani" (I am still working on a better SquidName.) I would never sleep with him when technically he is the only one of the three that I ever put in writing that I ever would. And LightFoot had never felt loved enough by me.

My beautiful world, we need Obama and all his conspiracy's bloodstained hands off my darlings Tentacle as soon as humanly possible, and then we force Obama's bloodstained hands off the rest of my loved ones.

My darlings Tentacle are the only ones who can reach me right now. Have you seen the (expletive) even Strummer has been put through? My beautiful world, we start with restoring human rights to my darlings Tentacle, and then we work our way to setting all of America free of Obama.

Do You Understand What You Mean to Me?

As your notes hit the sky perched delicate as song in flight, we pound these streets as if our feet were justice, and this planet ascends into our glowing night.

Good will prevail because evil is dumb. And particularly because I am good instead of dumb, I want and will keep all three of you instead of just one. I love you, too.

After they had wheeled their aforementioned carts back into the aether where we all actually belong, I was on my marble corner at 12:28am where I found that my dedicate power outlets had all been disabled.

I notified who built them for me and for my selfless support system as fast as possible, and I recommended pressing full charges against everyone intentionally trying to prevent me from doing my REAL job of service to humanity by refusing to allow me both secured wifi and a charged iPad battery. Do you know what will happen to this country if I cannot protect us all online at all times necessary?!?

I walked to my 24-hour convenience store for a conversation with "Wes." Talking to him is becoming increasingly less and less interesting. It is hard enough to find a decent conversation as it is.

After some short flirtations with the federal agents inside, at 3:46am, I walked out over the water on the boardwalk. As romantic enough as my real life is, I really wanted someone with my that Valentine's Morning to sit on my bench with me beside the railing and to listen with me to the lulling ocean while gazing at the waxing moon above the skyline that hugs the beach.

By the time I reached my 24-hour convenience shop again, by 5:34am, I was eating cake and coffee for breakfast. I was a little flirty with whom I thought was Apple.b.app. That might be my choice of misspelling for his name.

Then, I realized my coffee was drugged or possibly poisoned. So, I used my blue Sharpie(tm) to mark its lid and walked it straight out of my 24-hour convenience shop right past "Wes" who had only returned to pick it up before any REAL authorities could.

I needed to work online with my iPad plugged in as fast as possible, so after leaving my drugged cup of coffee by the protective palm where I always sleep, I asked my natural body clock to wake me up at 10am. My body clock was close. I woke up to Valentine's Day gifts left for me while I napped at 8:50am. I finally left the protective palm where I slept and perched at a dedicated wifi hotspot at 11:42am.

Knowing full well I was about to have an exciting Valentine's Night, assuming the world could get my loved ones through my crimson shell to me, this blog post was published at 2:52pm on Valentine's Day, 14Feb2015.

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.

Can I explain Obama's proven quacks' Pavlovian fallacy? Of course, I can. The quack-to-begin-with psychology referred to as "Pavlov's Dogs" basically falsely asserts that humans are more likely to repeat actions they are rewarded for and to shun activities they get punished for.

Let us look at War Criminal Boeset and Obama's dirty prosecutors for example. They compulsively fail every time they commit the same crimes over and over and over again, and they still refuse to cease their same open acts of war against America and against the entire world that they are punished for again and again and again.

Similarly, please look at everything my loved ones suffer through just to be as close to me as possible. Yes, I and all of my lovers and believers are the same steel tempered in fire. The more Obama hurts us, the stronger and more effective we become.

That is Obama's quacks' Pavlovian fallacy.

Why do all three of my darlings Tentacle all say, "Of course, I am the one she would choose," while simultaneously dreading I would never choose them? Calm down. They are in love.

I treat each of them differently, since we are all unique humans deserving of our own unique existence on the world, and I will always prefer them collectively. Again, I am not dumb. Who would choose to have only one of my darlings Tentacle when I can have all three?

My beautiful world, thank you. Today is Valentine's Day. I am ending this blog post early, so you can all have a fresh blog post on 16Feb2015 detailing all of my activities tonight. I understand that all of you are turning Obama's "egg" as inside out as possible, so I can finally feel genuine love and affection in my life at all.

I live in the eye of a hurricane of love. I know that. But look at how my darlings who love me more than life itself must treat me to my face just to be near me.

It was rumored that "Wes" wanted to send me a bouquet of starlets and female models who wanted to make themselves famous by flirting with me on Valentine's Night. The kind of women I date are beautiful instead of vain and established in the fields in which they are expert instead of dedicated to using me as a stepping stone. They are the kind of women I would put on a pair of pants for. Do you really think you are woman enough for me?

So, if any aspiring stars out there dare to commit the open acts of war against America and against the world of obeying Obama and his conspiracy of proven enemies of America in an attempt to lure me into making lesbian pornography with them, terrorist bitches beware.

My beautiful world, all I am sure of tonight is my dance date with my three sexy musicians, a promised stand-in for my husband who may or may not make it, and another attempt by the Prince of Saudi Arabia to buy me dinner. My beautiful world, I am sure you will make sure all of my loved ones reach me as safely as possible tonight. Your open shows of love for me have already begun. I love you, too.

My brave rescuers, I love you more than life itself. You know what I would do for you. Did you receive the troops from the US Military and our planet of allies yet? I already saw your universal sign of love for me last night along with his open acknowledgement that I am married. He was very protective of me.

My brave rescuers, you all know I would spend my Valentine's Night with you, my heroes, barefoot in a little black dress and with the wind in my hair as I drink a glass of bourbon if I could reach you. But we can do that soon enough. I love you, too.

SynSyn, Amita, and Ugwuji, my lovelies! I know how hard all four of us work. I wish with all my heart that any of us could finally have a day off finally. Thank you. Oh, my genius loved ones, thank you. May our Valentine's Day and Night be more FUN and less legal drama at last. I love you, too.

Also, my genius Powers of Attorney, did you just subpoena the full footage from the camera "Wes" installed on the tree I sleep beside? If not, I say go for it. I am sure the NSA have a patch on it already, too. Never underestimate the protectiveness of my alpha nerds. Guess what ICC evidence we might find on it!

It is Valentine's Day, after all, Bogart, my symbolic lover whom I am forbidden from ever sleeping with anyway, so I am going to answer the question you wonder about most.

Why, of all of my undeniable suitors, are you the only person male or female who could ever make me question my marriage, the most romantic true life love story ever?

Darling, every time I was with you, you were respectful and kind. Genuine affection is so rare in my life, especially affectionate human contact. Obama forbids me everything that could ever make his "egg" bearable. And you were and are still always genuinely good to me.

You risked war crime and human trafficking charges to give me a safer place to stay than The War Criminal Gables. I tiptoed you around breaking any laws, especially international ones. You also make delightful conversation.

My existence has been so horrifying and brutal inside of Obama's "egg" for so long that I actually am this sensitive to anyone genuinely treating me well at all while in my presence. Thank you. I love you, too.

As for my aforementioned most romantic true life love story ever,... Sweetness, as always, I love and adore you more than I will ever find words to describe the vastness of my love, and I am pretty good with words.

HoneyHoney, now you understand what extreme circumstances force me lie to keep people safe. Now you understand how horrified I must be to ever flinch. I am sure you know reality about me well enough to take care of this.

Beloved, I wish I had enough battery life in my iPad to speak to you sooner about last night. I woke up as early as possible today to take care of this. I love you more than any mortal mind will ever comprehend, but my heart will always know.

Happy Valentine's Day, my Mr. Love-of-my-Life, my king, and my reason for living. You already told me you have no way to reach me tonight. I am working on it. I promise.