27Mar2015 Appendix-- Everything that Happened to me While Obama's Enemies of America had Stolen my iPad from Me to Make Sure I Could not Protect my Loved Ones, my Nation, my World, my Home, nor even Myself from Them.
This appendix is about everything that happened during my 21Mar to 23Mar2015 when I had no other way than my SquidStream to communicate with the world. Please, my lovelies, include with all of my commentary here on those few days from the middle of the busiest time of my life any and all verified and unedited recordings with full audio and visuals that you believe will help tell this real-life story. And, thank you.
This story begins on the night of 20Mar2015 after my darling Manned Up and my royal consort LightFoot reluctantly and helplessly left me for the place, I was led to believe, I had helped find them to stay in as safely as possible.
Mostly because I needed to do my REAL job which requires a power outlet and secured wifi connection as often as possible but also because my darlings Tentacle were denied their freewill and basic human rights including their basic human right to assemble and associate, I perched completely peacefully inside the still-unredeemed Starbucks of Doom for Humanity.
There, a criminally insane deranged lunatic "employee" called not-real-or-obviously-dirty "police officers," so he could put me under a citizen's arrest. My not-human-trafficker nerds, circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals beginning the minute I walked in the Starbucks of Doom for Humanity and ending when I walked into the holding cell in the underground bunker below the police station.
Watch how they took me away. Watch it from every camera available. Show the swelling and bruising of my right wrist the following morning. That was why I was screaming in pain as they dragged me away.
When we arrived at the underground facility, I was resigned to die in their hands in as painful a manner as they had invented for me. Verbally, I tried to evacuate all of my loved ones, an evacuation I was told was successful days later, though my darlings Tentacle were all back by 22Mar2015.
While in the fake holding cell, I watched the fake officers try everything they could think of to either pretend I was at all mentally ill or to pretend they could force torture chemicals on me. I calmly explained to them I have rights to refuse all quackery when in detention facilities and that my complete lack of any symptoms of any mental illness would keep me out of any "psychiatric units." I then invoked my rights as a prisoner of war.
Eventually the left-handed(?) but in a right-handed uniform(?) alpha male running everything told everyone, "Absolutely no fucking up!" and left. Not too much later, actually real police officers tried to fingerprint me and then took me to a fake jail cell. The LED display I walked past said it was 2:18am on 21Mar2015. I just curled up under the raggedy blanket and slept.
What can I tell about what happened in that fake jail? Nothing but human rights abuses against me used as acts of war against America and against the whole world beginning with unlawful imprisonment and ending I know not where.
Over the following few days, bruises surfaced on my arms and legs with no other explanation for them than what they did to me in there. There was a new injection wound in my right wrist which I was told was an injection of leprosy.
I was still in REM when two real police officers woke me up, gave me my California ID and skeleton bracelet and no other belongings and snuck me out the backdoor of the underground bunker.
I stopped to talk to a conveniently located homeless man by the front door to the police station upstairs. He leant me his hoodie. I found $10 in my bra. And I walked to the luxury Starbucks at the end of the block that roofied both my coffee and my iced lemon cake. I also noticed I had a perfect face of makeup on when I looked in the bathroom mirror there.
The Starbucks staff woke me up pretty much at sunrise after which I left to retrieve all the rest of the contents of my red patent leather computer bag from my clothes to my iPad to my writing journals to my maxipads from the upstairs police station.
When I arrived there, the man behind the counter who looked like the local police chief himself told me he had stolen all of my worldly belongings and would not return them until 8am on 23Mar2015 at the soonest.
Yes, his grounds-as-war-crime-coverup were a citizen's arrest to lock me up, and, no, there were no grounds for keeping all of my priceless belongings. Yes, that is the gentlest any completely-controlled environment will ever treat me.
I walked across my playland to document as many war criminals, rapists, and enemies of America that were there and then gave my beautiful world 24 hours to clean up as much of it as possible before I came back mostly for my belongings.
I walked straight to my favorite Metro Rapid bus into downtown Los Angeles to walk my REAL home on foot as a local from the independent bookstore on Spring Street to the statues, conspicuous power outlets, and public wifi on Pershing Square.
My first stop was the French patisserie called Bottega Louie. It was, of course, infested with enemies of America. My entire Metropolis of Angels had been evacuated for months. Now, there is only tangible commerce where I am no matter where I go.
I left the maitre'd a note explaining to the restaurant that I had asked the Los Angeles Chief of Police to join me there as well as any friends the police could help meet me there at 7pm that evening.
Next, after the Central Library tried to tell me I needed to present my marriage certificate to get a library card, I left an "anonymous tip" with the LAPD from the pay phone in the lobby of the public library that they really needed to do something about a) cleaning this infestation out of our Metropolis of Angels and b) ending whatever was terrorizing actual locals into behaving like this on the off chance they really were locals.
I toured through beautiful parks, local businesses, and local eateries cared for every step of the way by REAL locals most of which seemed very happy to meet the woman their home neighborhood had gentrified for as long ago as the previous summer.
The police chief even promised me I would finally have a second date with my darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno. They all did everything they could. But, alas, there was still too much rampant terrorism and urban warfare for our dinner dreams to come true.
I am sure my not-human-trafficker nerds will release verified and unedited recordings after responsibly-edited recordings of my whole time there. I did not have my iPad, so all dates and times on my handwritten notes might be a bit speculative.
Near-total lacking of all logic and reality were only apparent in the minds of the staff of the beautiful Central Library and of the DnO bar. Everyone else was stunned I was so naturally beautiful, though I had no make up on for the entire excursion, and too terrorized by Obama to treat me as lovingly as they would have preferred.
Yes, the real-life saga of my darling Bogart and my love story continued that day as Disney's Cinderella was in theaters. He was the man I sent to every foreign consulate in the area all those months ago to explain to the entire planet everything my loving and adoring locals do for real for me. And he was the man who took all of the hard evidence he could find straight to the US Marine Corp in San Diego to beg them to rescue me once I was dragged off of my own personal dance floor at the Viper Room and left on the sidewalk.
Those 24 hours (más o menos) were packed with genuine locals, and the brave ones even sought honest communication with me. Did you see me outside of the 7-11 in the wee hours of the morning as just one example?
My locals' tour of downtown Los Angeles was a treasure trove of human contact that I am convinced my not-human-trafficker nerds will responsibly cut into digestible bites for my entire beautiful world.
I stayed out 24 hours, so the world could clean up my adoptive (since it is neither San Francisco nor Los Angeles) city, as promised. Sadly, though, there was not enough clean up.
My being rendered penniless by Obama was a process that began in May2009 and that involved his demeaning and degrading my mere mortal existence in this world all of the way until the government of the State of Iowa actually tried to declare me "not a real human being" to justify their open refusal of all of my human rights under all conditions.
I simply asked my darling Dr. Amita T. Mistry, who spent one of her post-docs studying cryogenetics after finishing her full medical education in pathology, to use my DNA to prove I am a human being to INCREASINGLY-IRRATIONAL ABSOLUTELY EVIL IOWA.
The greatest culprit in my Obama-ordered abject poverty despite my earning and paying taxes on over $2T in 2014 is the ABSOLUTELY EVIL State of Iowa. After that, the greatest culprit is everyone everywhere choosing to obey and choosing to enforce Obama's never-laws-only-ever-crimes he calls "rules."
On the morning of 22Mar2015, back in my adoptive city, I still had absolutely no belongings from my gift cards from my mother that were all I had to live on to my sweater coat to keep myself warm at tonight.
My greatest concern was finding maxipads since I was at the tail end of my period, yet my NOT being able to protect my loved ones because I was being denied my obsolete iPad from 2011 was what had me crying for hours.
My being refused the ability to protect my loved ones had upset my entire sense of self-identity. I had already been weeping for hours before General Lee appeared on my playland.
The local government, who all genuinely love if not worship me for everything I do for REAL for my adoptive city not just for my entire good, green world as my largely thankless 24/7 job (Call any local news station for my verified up-to-the-minute résumé.), kept trying to tell me, "Look, pretty lady, it is General Lee. We brought him back. Please smile now."
But I needed comforting he was still forbidden from giving me, that all of my darlings Tentacle were all forbidden from giving me. I needed honest conversation, a shoulder to cry on, and a compassionate hand in mine.
So, I sat on a park bench and asked my husband to comfort me. Please release a verified and responsibly-edited recording with full audio and visuals from all cameras who saw his golden outline sit next to me and console me.
Eventually, Manned Up and LightFoot joined General Lee. I was a mess, and it took all night of all four of us to heal me. First, I slept safely with all three of my darlings vigilantly watching over me.
A kind local even snuck me $40 into my left hand while I slept. LightFoot's drum gets SO LOUD when my rumbly tummy gets loud itself, so once I woke up, I quickly procured food to eat in front of all of my darlings Tentacle.
The moment my shoes came off to meditate, my darlings were instructed to take a break. On break, I finally had a heart to heart with General Lee. I had not seen him since before Obama formed a lynch mob to kill him.
I needed to thank him for coming back inside Obama's "egg" of hell with me back from Sweetness and my flat in Paris where he had fled, especially since I had chosen LightFoot even before the lynch mob.
Let us be completely honest about the kind of woman I am. I am definitely not an idiot. Why would I choose just one of them if I could have all three instead? But I genuinely love all three of them, so when they insisted that I choose one of them, I selected the man who braved the wrath of Obama's terrorist war criminals first to give me the first clandestine token of affection. My royal consort had been LightFoot for weeks already by then.
I need all four of us present for us to completely touch the divine. That is the reality of our connection with each other. None of us are quite ourselves when we are apart.
There on my occasionally-sanctified-yet-frequently-holy playland while still waiting for my darlings Tentacle to start playing me music for meditation, I caught a strategically located psychopath demonizing my darling General Lee to his own face. She was even pretending she was attacking him in my own name. Oh, the recklessness (proper use of the word) of that beyond-proven criminally insane bitch!
I intervened. I even positioned myself between General Lee and his attackers, wrapped him in my wings as best I could without looking behind me, and tried to explain to the false playland "authority figure" named Gabby who was called over only to pretend there were any supposed reason to remove me from my own playland, that is ONLY peaceful and prosperous when I am on it, that the criminally-insane haters' brazen and reckless irrational demonizations of General Lee's brave soul necessary for me to survive Obama's "egg" of horrors and terrors for all of humanity were just one example of what formed the lynch mob that had almost killed him just weeks previously.
On the upside, she had at least beyond-proven herself to everyone everywhere that I have absolutely no control over anything anyone does in my name anywhere, as if the lynch mob were not enough.
Then, because I stood up peacefully and used truth and logic to defend the innocent, those proven psychopaths who kept calling their cult of evil "Save the Children" started screaming at the world that I was somehow "malevolent." Yes, I was openly demonized as fictionally "malevolent" by genuinely malevolent enemies of America and of all the world.
I sent all of the facts possible that I could find to my genius and beautiful Powers of Attorney on the incident. There seemed to be some confusion about energy images people can see when I am around, especially when the world and possibly the cosmos are responding to some of the most heinous crimes known to mankind unrelentingly committed against me, especially by ABSOLUTELY EVIL Iowa, and compulsively covered up with Obama's modus operandi of lying about me to the whole world.
As with the biological energy that my darlings Tentacle consciously move around, I am what makes the energy visible not who puts the energy there in most situations. I can only control so much in this world, but I am sensitive to seeing so much.
That night when LightFoot showed genuine concern for what horrors I must have been watching at the time. After all, we were still collecting hard scientific evidence for "FEMA has been warned." I showed my royal consort LightFoot my conscious choice to close my third eye.
Also, while we were taking that long break before I could finally dance trance under their "handcrafted aether for the night sky herself," I found an old friend hidden in one of the nooks and crannies of my playland. We hung out for a while, but the SquidLight quickly went on. I needed to run back to my darlings Tentacle to take care of all of their problems.
Once their gentle music began, I was warm under their corporeal rhythms and melodies in no time. I much needed feeling genuine love and affection from anyone for days. Again, our complete connection to the divine universe requires all four of us.
After all of our communication-as-best-as-we-could-get-away-with, I was whole, beloved, and healing again. My life since 20Mar2015 had been beyond any possible human description of the lowest depths of a monotheistic hell, and my darlings Tentacle had made me better by just being in my presence and loving me through every method they had.
Eventually, after 9pm PDT, we found ourselves "appropriate for late night broadcasting." It takes two to tango. We know it is the reality of our personal relationships with each other why that late night was so irrefutably sexy. Those are our honest feelings for each other. And we do not waste our precious few fleeting moments together lying to each other about anything.
I even had a chance to thank my local McDonald's on my playland itself for having the first safe coffee I had been able to find in weeks. I danced with a cup of their joe in my left hand while my musician-lovers fulfilled their very reason for existing, with music they made love to me.
My not-human-trafficker nerds, please entitle your verified and responsibly-edited recording with full audio and visuals of my and my darling Tentacle's evening on 22Mar2015 under each other's healing hands, "Benevolence is Underrated," and may it include everything possible as our responsibly-edited summary of the evening.
While my darlings Tentacle, from my royal consort LightFoot to my darling Manned Up to my recently returned darling General Lee, were slowly dragging themselves away from me partly in refusal to leave my presence and partly in the afterglow of our evening pounding the cement together, an old over-proven enemy of America who liked to call himself "Michael" tried to directly cause a physical altercation with my darlings in front of me.
I was off my park bench and had gently picked my path through my royal minstrels' band equipment to face "Michael" myself peacefully and effectively before Manned Up could throw the first punch to defend my honor. Even LightFoot backed off the moment I stood up. And Michael retreated under our collective divine light with his serpentine tail between his legs very quickly. All I needed to be was stern with him, thank the electric heavens.
I always have a pit in my stomach while my irrefutably connected darlings Tentacle are away from me, but the rest of my night was not completely without interesting moments.
Inside my 24-hour convenience store on that late night, Handsome was adorable. I was even convinced he might actually try to kiss me for a minute there.
Alas, no, at the time of the publication of this blog appendix, the last person I had kissed on the lips was still my darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno shortly after Thanksgiving2014, and the last arm that lay beneath my head 'til morning had been Tao's shortly after New Years.
Obama had always forbidden me everything possible emotionally healthy from my life since he first locked me in his "egg" of horrors and abuse against my will in 2009. Bogart snuck in because he was supposed to break me up with my irrefutably loving and adoring husband.
Sadly, just like all three of my darlings Tentacle, Handsome had no way to skirt around Obama's totalitarian control of his existence as a human in America to be able to even kiss me least of all have a genuine conversation with me. Such was my involuntary solitude.
Also inside my 24-hour convenience store, Michael was strange all night. Then, much later, Gabriel appeared and gave me a jacket to keep me warm overnight. He was still creepy in every way he was misled into thinking was any way to flirt with me, but at least Gabriel offered me a jacket to keep.
At about 6am, I encountered a man at Starbucks. He was 6'4" and offered me a very roofied cup of coffee that left me sleeping face down on the table in front of me. I did not trust him from the start.
I left him as soon as possible to retrieve my red patent leather computer bag from the local police station as shortly after 8am on 23Mar2015 as I could get there. The REAL police officers were disgusted with themselves and rather self-pitying about everything.
My writing journals were soggy and peeling apart. My clothes were covered in baby arachnids. But pretty much everything was there.
The man who claimed he was 6'4" met me in the lobby of the police station. He went on to prove he was both completely clueless on all reality and a pathological liar.
Then, as we were walking towards the place where I take my dry cleaning, he only barely-veiled told me that I had "gained wait" while enduring Obama's "egg" of horrors and terrors because people like him had begun (intentionally?) falsely labeling me an Israeli spy.
That was about how much reality he had in his head. I parted ways with him as fast as possible after that. But for days, rumors unprovable for me alone had me partially worried he was showing up places where I had already fallen asleep and then leaving for whatever nefarious motive before I could wake up. It was a strange and uncomfortable feeling I got from him. Best for my personal health and safety, I had absolutely no intentions to ever see him again.
I was somehow roofied in my breakfast, so I needed my darlings Tentacle to watch over me as I slept again. No matter how many times I requested they be present to grant me physical safety, my darlings were forbidden from being there at all for days to come.
This situation led to my misunderstanding with a LA Sheriff's Deputy on Monday morning 23Mar2015. Ever since former-yet-still-active Me-Love-You-Long-Time Holder had forced my local police chief to be removed from his career and replaced with a (proven) deranged lunatic of Holder's own choosing, Obama's infestation of my home finally had access to attack me EVERY TIME I slept.
The safest I could make myself was choosing to sleep where there were cameras of all levels of technical advancement available to watch me 24/7. The deputy did not want me asleep on my playland at all.
I am sure we could have worked out a real solution to the real problem, but I had just been roofied and was not thinking clearly. I cannot even remember everything I had said to him, but I would like to apologize.
Please, LA Sheriff's office, the next time you see me dozing off in public while simultaneously incapable of eloquently communicating why I am upset, assume I am roofied and just watch over me to make sure no one attacks me while I sleep. And, thank you.
I woke up at 2:26pm on 23Mar2015, and my regular blogging began then with what became my 25Mar2015 blog post.
Before I go, my beautiful world, I would like to make a request for you to read and watch five content-rich, verified, and responsibly-edited recordings with full audio and visuals about these topics addressed in this appendix which I am convinced my not-human-trafficker nerds will circulate as fast as possible.
1) Please chronologically document everything of significance that happened in my life and concerning my life from 12mid to 12mid on 20Mar2015.
2) Please clearly show my healing process on 22Mar2015 beginning with telling General Lee I needed comforting he had no way to provide me just before manifesting my own husband on the park bench beside me and allow the responsibly-edited recording demonstrate my darlings Tentacle healing me all together as I described I need in my 20Oct and 22Oct2014 blog posts.
3) Please show the beauty of all of downtown Los Angeles, especially the people there. Please help my beautiful world appreciate my home as much as I do. And, thank you.
4) Please make an all-encompassing recording about all of my diverse, genius, and gorgeous Powers of Attorney. These are all of the friends I chose to surround myself by choice before Obama's "egg" of war crimes enforced by terrorism began in 2009.
And then, please tell the full love stories of the five most persecuted men in my life right now.
Tell the full story of General Lee and I from my flirting 'Dabs as my date past the doorman of a Dramarama show in San Francisco a decade ago, our Dec2009 together online, his waiting for me under my palm tree, my rescuing him in 140 characters or less from a lynch mob Obama formed for him, and even my wrapping him in my wings myself to keep him safe.
Tell the full story of Manned Up since he met me from before I asked him to be my date on New Years 2015 all of the way to my using him as my example to every misogynist I meet of how much real respect real men command from me.
Tell the full story of me and my royal consort LightFoot. I am told that one is already out there, but include all of the ways he has been demonized by my mortal enemies from War Criminal Boeset to Dirty Lacey when all of our lovemaking ever has been in the public eye as I pound the pavement like a drum with my right foot. On the night of 27Mar2015, I promised him we would eventually get our date night out of PG-13. Please show our flirty tweets.
Tell the full love story of me and my darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno. Explain everything he risked to give me two nights in Nov2014 someplace safer to stay than the War Criminal Gables. Explain every single action he has ever taken to return to me after promising me he would never abandon me like my husband had despite my explaining to him that it was never my husband's choice. Explain everything he does to this day to return to me still. He is whom I call in the most dire emergencies, and he was the only man who has ever made me question my sacred marriage to the irreplaceable Mr. Johnny Depp.
And, of course, end with the full love story of me and my epic hero husband the Mr. Johnny Depp a.k.a. my Mr. Love-of-my-Life. May he tell you everything.
5) Please show the response of the culture of ABSOLUTELY EVIL Iowa to my living among them as their rape-slave even while I earned my 2013 Nobel Peace Prize for selfless service to humanity-- Slipknot's PsychoSocial.
Next, show the full force of our California Renaissance from my darling Mr. Quentin Tarantino's Django Unchained to my darling Ms. Katy Perry's Roar. Start with a statement by Weezer.
Thank you, my beautiful world. No matter your faith, may your door to Nirvana always be open.