Title: Yes, This LifeStyle is Dangerous, but It is Dangerous Because Other People, Especially Proven Human Traffickers and War Criminals, Control too Much of My Life.
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. Yes, this lifestyle is dangerous, but it is dangerous because other people, especially proven human traffickers and war criminals, control so much of my life. If I had unfettered loved ones around me at all times as well as full human rights including self-determination, I would be perfectly safe at last.
I published my last blog post at 11:51pm on 18Mar2015. After making sure it was safely received by my lovelies, I quickly entered my 24-hour convenience store to use
Luis and Miguel as plot exhibition on how to better protect our local police officers and federal agents from irrational demonizations. I was sure that verified and unedited recording would get around as fast as possible.
Not long after 1am on 19Mar2015, I was perched between the ocean and the sky in my favorite place in all the world to work online.
A self-admitted crazy woman tried having a conversation with me in the bathroom, an encounter that was immediately followed by a dirty cop driving past me, if he were a real police officer at all.
It had already been reported that "male, local, police officers in-uniform," were the war criminal enemies of America attacking me every time I slept, especially since the new police chief. I had high suspicions that they were fake cops if that story were true in the first place.
Do you remember my 27Feb2015 blog post? Any way Obama's criminal terrorist enemies of America could, they were hellbent on forcing the world to think I was a "vagrant" I have never been in my life.
All of their attacks on my body and on my personal possessions while I slept were always attempts to render me mistakable for a vagrant and worse crimes against my body while I was unconscious.
Those two who had just driven by me were the same two cops from the previous afternoon who had brought the war-crime-coverup "mental health professional" to remove me from the world FOREVER.
Those two were the best place to start our investigation into who all the men were who had been attacking me in my sleep for over a month.
At 5:05am, I relocated to my 24-hour convenience store, where at 5:25am, I metaphorically just crawled inside the front door very dehydrated. I tried to buy some bottled water, but it was drugged. Next, I walked a few blocks for my self-perpetuating cycle of tacos.
I listened to everyone from Beyoncé to Billy Idol during breakfast until I left at 6:57am. I quickly perched exhausted on a park bench. There were so many drugs in what I had just eaten.
I was awakened by a previously reported female war criminal fake "police officer." There were also a few others with questions. Here was my list of five tweets from that morning...
11:20am on 19Mar2015: 1/5) I have diplomatic immunity.
11:21am on 19Mar2015: 2/5) How does someone know if I am wearing a bra or not? Was Tentacle kept away from me, so someone could attack me?
11:22am on 19Mar2015: 3/5)Were #Tentacle kept away from me, so someone could attack me to se to coverup assassinating me in a literal torture facility?
11:23am on 19Mar2015: 4/5)#21DecAnd18Mar #RazeWith28JanAnd28Oct
11:25am on 19Mar2015: 5/5)I and Tentacle will be most healthy and safe once we have enough Constitutional rights restored to be together. http://t.co/SWHqAy2Q9x
It was a hot day, so I went out to make a public display of showering by 12:32pm. I was in the habit of recording myself showering in a public place about once a month to remind the world to never believe any of Obama's compulsive lies about me. My question for my beautiful world the entire time was, "Where are my darlings Tentacle?"
I perched in my sky haven momentarily before running errands. Then, I rested for a moment with a local mandolin player before perching on my conversation patio at 4:32pm.
Because my iPad battery was dead, I kept handwritten minute-by-minute notes of everything that happened while I sat on that patio holding court like a queen. I am sure my not-human-trafficker nerds have their own verified and responsibly-edited recording with full audio and visuals of my evening on the best patio for conversations in all of my playland. But these were my highlights....
5:26pm. A high-quality conversation ended.
Unmarked time. As "The Man in the Ugly Mustache" entered, he told Handsome, "We're putting a hold on all of them."
7:04pm. After two disgusting men treated me like a hooker instead of as an intellectual-as-world-leader, I sent my entire beautiful world to locate and protect Sweetness, Bogart, all three of Tentacle, all my Powers of Attorney, and myself.
7:08pm. Frustrated with his personal incompetancies, "Wes" left after threatening "the big nasty" was coming for me.
7:16pm. A friend who was the symbol of other friends got me a sesame ball.
9:46pm. With regular activity for me with razors when I actually do have anyone to sleep with especially regularly, I calmly averted a health crisis caused by an attack on my body while I slept.
10:32pm Please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals beginning when my "friend by association" first stepped foot on the patio and ending the moment he stepped off of it.
My not-human-trafficker nerds, please also release a verified image of my handwritten minutes for 19Mar2015 from my current writing journal. I finally left my conversation patio that night at 11:26pm.
On my way to see if the outlets were working again on my old marble corner, I found an old darling I had come to know very well from his playing me music constantly in random nooks and crannies of my playland.
My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals, with his permission, of course, beginning the moment I first saw him and ending the moment I walked away.
On my way to my marble corner, my darling Mr. Mario Batalli made sure he could feed me his sexiest slice of pizza yet. Sadly, I found the power outlets were already shutdown before I could reach them. So, by 1:32am on 20Mar2015, I found myself wearing nothing but my panties since I was on my period and my holy sweater coat as I was disinfecting my purple dress AGAIN!
Yes, I was in the most-vacant 24-hour restrooms I knew of in town wearing my (sweater coat only as) most darling late Marilyn Monroe outfit ever when I quickly realized that my last remaining dress just could not be saved that time.
Saving as much of my priceless iPad battery life as possible, my first plea for help was at 2:17am. I asked my BFF Syniva to call my 24-hour convenience store to ask the employee working alone at that hour to call Handsome whose shift had ended at 2am to bring me clothes to wear, so I could finally leave that restroom. Ask Handsome some time what conditions were put on him to keep him from rescuing me from my near-nakedness.
While waiting there for help after I had made general pleas for help, too. At 5:56am, I met look-enough-alikes for LightFoot and General Lee. At first, they were passively aggressively insulting towards me, but after a few brief minutes of genuine and honest conversation, they headed into my adoptive city to find me the best dress "worthy of their princess" they could.
The look-enough-alikes asked me to wait for them until the afternoon. I knew I would have to wait until the afternoon anyway, if I was going to have to fix my clothing emergency myself. That was when my latest gift cards from my mother were supposed to arrive at my post office box.
The final plea I made for help that morning was at 8:29am directly to my darling Bogart just before my iPad battery died. Despite every person he sent, even Bogart could not help me there in that secluded restroom between the ocean and the sky.
11:53am on 20Mar2015: We have proven beyond any doubt that I NEED wifi, power outlets, and a noncorrupted iPad battery at all times! Please call my beloved Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno for our hard evidence of how many people have been trying to reach me since at least 8:30am, of our hard witnesses from right next to me of what Obama's war criminal infestation of our home was about to do to me if I had not finally woken up after dozing off exhausted, and for statements from "Mountain Jack" etc. of ALL attempted crimes and timelines for the day. Thank you!
You see, while I had sat upon the steps just outside of the restroom I had waited in all morning in my dehydrated hypnogogic state, "rumor told me" that the look-enough-alikes for LightFoot and General Lee were "the big nasty" that "Wes" had promised me the previous evening.
They had been sent to rape and possibly murder me, so Obama's war criminal infestation of our home could finally remove me from the world FOREVER and frame my darlings Tentacle for it all, or so rumor had it. Rumor also had it that they told everyone "[War Criminal] Stephanie sent us," when questioned by authorities.
Please recall, all they had to do was meet me to realize that I have always been the woman they have loved for REAL for all these years without ever meeting me first. In the song, With One Look from Sunset Boulevard this phenomenon in the genuinely good hearts of genuinely good people who meet me for the first time is referred to as "With one look I'm... all the love that you've hungered for."
Of course, I later learned that all people trying to reach me had been terrorized into only being able to bring me a dress that could be used to falsely accuse me of being a prostitute if I were even willing to wear it at all. So, in nothing but my sweater coat and my panties, just about noon, I left to pick up my mail.
My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate, as soon as possible, a verified and responsibly-edited recording with full audio and visuals of those twelve hours of my life.
Only standard drama from Obama's criminal terrorist infestation of our home delayed my retrieval of my gift cards from where my post office box is housed, so I was shopping at my local TJMaxx, this fashionista's worst kept secret, in no time.
My not-human-trafficker nerds, please release a non-chronological-yet-timestamped, verified, and responsibly-edited recording with full audio and visuals of the highlights of my time shopping at my favorite designer discount store.
Begin with my full circle view of myself in the mirror in the fitting room wearing barely anything but my sweater coat. No, I had no makeup on that day. Then, show me trying to zip up the gold "Lilly Rose" brand dress, but the Misses size 12 could not zip up over my lower rib cage.
Next, show the horrible customer service I received from both of the women who worked in the fitting room area, especially when I just tried to wear the dress I wanted out of the store as I paid for it, since it is normal for women when we go shopping to just wear the dress we want out of the door.
Compare the fitting room customer service to the customer service I received at check out. Then, show the horrifying humiliation I received upon returning to the fitting room to put my dress on.
Finally, my not-human-trafficker nerds, show my final outfit as I walked out the door. Ask for permission from the store, if they so choose to show me walking out of the store as the fashionista I really am.
As a final note on the verified and responsibly-edited recording, please add that we only pressed charges against the enemies of America who destabilized the world with their degrading and demeaning treatment of me in the fitting room area and not against anyone else, not against the store, not against the management, not against TJMaxx corporate, etc. I and my legal team know full well what an infestation is.
Again, where I stopped for lunch immediately after that, we only held each individual individual accountable for his or her own actions.
Yes, by 2:22pm, I was finally perched on a new magic patio with secured wifi, a dedicated power outlet, an untainted caffeinated beverage, very nutritious food, and a lot of catching up to do.
3:44pm on 20Mar2015: @Martin_Dempsey Without my verified #SquidStream and pristine blog, I cannot keep protecting the innocent from the liars with the hard truth.
After much of the previously mentioned online activity, I was finally done catching up with all of my TweetHearts at 5:44pm. It was a very busy day.
I quickly relocated back onto my playland, and my over-burdened heart exploded with joy at 6:11pm when I found that 2/3 of my darling Tentacle were present. Yes, my royal consort LightFoot and my darling Manned Up had already arrived.
May that spiritual night of corporal rhythms live in the archives of American culture until the end of humanity ourselves. My lyrical prose on this topic will appear in my next appendix to this blog.
As a side note, my now-darling Mountain Jack, the look-enough-alike for my royal consort who first appeared on the morning of 20Mar2015 still checks on me regularly just like law enforcement of all levels of government do just in case I ever need to ask for anything.
My insightful and globally-necessary commentary on my day-to-day minutia is the reason I blog; even though, I also SquidStream. The minutia recorded in this blog post ended on the evening of 20Mar2015 when my darlings Tentacle and LightFoot left me. I video-blogged everything from then until 2:26pm on 23Mar2015.
Please only trust verified vlogs from those few days when my iPad was stolen from me. Contact any local news station in the US anywhere for the trustworthy sources of all video-journaling I did until my iPad was returned on 23Mar2015. Thank you, my beautiful world.
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 all the dry skin? Sigh... I successfully used topical analgesics to treat my poisoned sumac, etc, on my back and legs. So, my skin dried out there. I just need to pick up some deep moisturizers.
Obama's criminal terrorist infestation of our home continue to reinfect my long arms every time I sleep without loved ones to watch over me, though. They also spread dirt on my face, my feet, my clothes, etc. every time I sleep unguarded.
We, as a collective of loved ones, are working on finally figuring out how to keep me safe as I sleep; the more control people have, especially Obama's conspiracy of control-obsessed psychopaths and quacks, over my surroundings and living conditions, the more dangerous my life always is.
When they mostly just sit in my computer bag dormant all day, why are my writing journals so beat up? Because Obama's war criminal infestation of our home attack them as much as they attack me while I sleep.
As of the timestamp on this post, the covers have been torn off my writing journals. I keep finding pages torn out and crumpled up in the bottom of my computer bag. All three books are frequently soggy, and they are all torn from their bindings.
Why are my darlings Tentacle and I never quite ourselves when we are not all together? I admit that might be mostly my fault for opening our connection to each other so deeply. We are a whole connection of mortal humanity with the divine universe when all four of us are present. When we are apart, our overriding drive is to be together again.
But look at us when we are all in the same place at the same time. Our souls stand naked together under the glowing aether while our hands sweep the cobwebs from the stars embedded in the sky above us-- their fingers manipulating their strings and pounding their wooden boxes and my fingers tentacularly flowing through the air as if it were an ocean for my underwater garden of human expression.
I will be the first to admit fault for our connection to each other being so irrefutably deeply founded. They exist to love me. And I exist to make this entire world worthy of every moment of suffering anyone anywhere has ever endured for standing up to Obama for the good of this entire world, from the 10,000+ souls of my brave rescuers released to dance among the universe without their Earthly worries to every last irrational demonization of my selfless and loving romantic interests used by Obama to make my would-be loving and adoring public turn on all five of my persecuted lovers-if-only-we-could-touch.
My beautiful world, I apologize for this blog post arriving so late. This is my only postdated blog post, and may it be my last. You know what to do with all of this hard truth.
Make sure I am never silenced. Keep me safer. Send more locals to love and dote over me WITH GENUINE AFFECTION more often. Keep me alive until Obama's "egg" and rules finally end. And, most importantly, demolish Obama's rules at last to set my people free.
My selfless saturation of protection, your earspeakers are the primary reason you are less effective keeping me safe than you need to be. Please remove all of your earspeakers and watch my verified SquidStream including accurate teletext instead. Thank you.
My NSA alpha nerds, my mother has offered to buy me the latest greatest full-screen iPad whositwhatsit to replace this one finally. She could not work around Obama's limits on her to "buy" me the tablet PC you were building for me. So, please contact the Apple Company and make sure whatever custom iPad you build for me will be waiting for me at my local Apple Store after my mom "buys" it for me. Giggle. Thx!
All three of my darlings Tentacle, do you want to get yourselves to safety and put a revolving door on playing me music under the name Tentacle on my playland until this "egg" ends? We have a long list of friends who would love to cycle through dedicated meditation sessions with me. I will also take a lot of the physical danger off you three. Your choice.
Bogart, my symbolic lover whom I am forbidden from ever sleeping with anyway, ALWAYS MY HERO! As I said, you are the easiest for me to send messages to. Our evolving amor prohibido of love and need and selfless help carries on so much more potently in the next few posts. I promise.
My BFF SynSyn and all of my beautiful and genius Powers of Attorney, sorry about the heavy workload lately. You are the first line of defense protecting the good, green world from losing me forever, and now, you are the experts and professionals who shield my entire selfless support system from some of the worst human rights abuses against all of us that Obama openly uses as acts of war against America and against all the world.
My genius friends, whatever you need, just ask.
LightFoot, my symbolic royal consort whom I am forbidden from speaking to least of all making love to anyway, first of all, calm down. I am not dead. You are not dead. We are not dead. Please go through all of my Mar2015 blog posts again oldest to newest and work with everyone you need to work with to finally make sure you can keep me safe while I sleep. Let me worry about everything else.
And, as always, included every time to make sure the whole world reads until the end of each post, Sweetness, I love and adore you. I have new love poems on their way to you anon. Do you remember the night I wrote you this one?...
Your Power Over Me (written 09Feb2015)
My beloved husband,
Have I yet taught you
what power means?
When one woman,
just one woman,
can control the seas
and call the sun,
only one other human
can command her heart.
Do you know what you mean to me?
be careful with your powers.
This is not just America's
greatest time of need.
It is also mine.