How Much of my REAL Job of Selfless Service to Humanity Could I Have Done by Now if I had Human Rights at Last?

Title: How Much of my REAL Job of Selfless Service to Humanity Could I Have Done by Now if I had Human Rights at Last?

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. From slowing me down to forcing me offline to refusing me all of my own finances to keeping my own real loved ones away from me to lying about me to incite irrational hatred of me-- everything and everyone preventing me from doing my REAL job must be arrested and removed. Too many people everywhere in this world depend on me.

"A girl child ain't safe in a world full of mens..." --The Color Purple Personally, I have not felt comfortable with being viewed as a sexual creature at all by the public until recently, meaning this month. I am finally accepting of being treated as sexually attractive by strangers, but I will never tolerate being treated like a sexual object.

I once lectured a woman at a McDonald's in Long Beach, CA on her failure as a mother figure because the tween girls she was with were twerking. I would also like to be an example for young women on how to have emotionally healthy relationships with menfolk, but the people around me would need to be free to acknowledge reality for that to be possible.

My previous blogpost is post-dated 1:06pm on 16Apr2015. I actually finished this blogpost first after which I wrote an appendix to address my weekend with my mother from 16Apr to 20Apr2015.

This blog post begins at 12noon on 20Apr2015 when I checked out of the hotel room my mom had arranged for us while she was in town. Well before 1:27pm, I was perched at a local independent coffee shop I had never noticed before trying to catchup on all of my backlog of blogging.

I had promised to look for my darlings Tentacle at 4pm after my hours of writing, but I was delayed by nineteen minutes because I treated the skin infection on my legs again. No, they were not around. After reassurances they were alive, though, I sat down to Spanish tapas with a tiny glass of wine while I kept writing.

I paid my bill at 6:10pm and after both online research and notifying Bogart and Alfred, I left for a Monday night on the town. With no friends allowed near me, why would I stay in my adoptive city that night promoting their economy and keeping peace for them?

Yes, I decided to catch up my blog from a local tourism hotspot in Beverly Hills. By 8:44pm, I was sipping a zombie at Trader Vic's. Giggle.

I pretty much sat there and wrote while menfolk with strange accents came and went just to be able to look at me. I sipped that zombie until just before Trader Vic's closed at 12mid. Shortly afterwards, I was invited by the friendly staff of the coffee bar upstairs to sip my espresso doppio while using their outlets, etc. all night long. We have the verified audio and visuals.

The only distressing part was when I noticed some clandestine stranger had absconded some time between then and when I had dinner with my charger for my new iPad Air 2 that my mother had just bought me.

I reported it was missing at 1:40am with a request for my Powers of Attorney to subpoena all surveillance from the bus to the tiki bar, etc., to make sure we could catch the thief of my priceless belongings.

My work in the wee hours of that morning was long overdue. I sat silently at that power outlet catching up my last blog post (my second only ever post-dated post) as fast as possible.

Well, until 3:36am, that was what I worked on. That was the time a fake security officer who refused to tell me his name pretended he was physically intimidating (Why else did he move the chair?) and told me to leave.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and responsibly-edited recording of my highlights at the Beverly Hilton: my arrival, my drink order, my paying my bill, my full explanation start to finish of why my darling LightFoot needed to press useless charges against me at all and how we chose TOGETHER my soliciting him for prostitution, how my soliciting him for $2 worth of Nirvana-esque bliss is a regular part of our flirtation, the maintenance man's confirmation of absolutely no bugs in their restroom after I used it, my conversation with "Chelsea," my entire interaction with "Joe" including his inappropriately dirty talk about my lemon rind and open invitation to use their bar's power outlet "all night long," (follow that with) the message I sent Bogart and Alfred before I boarded the Metro to go there, their amped conversation behind the bar while I reported my stolen belongings, every second from the moment the fake security guard appeared before me at roughly 3:30am until I was out the door among the cool morning air, end with the archival footage of my rapist Jacob telling me his relationship with the hotel. Thank you!

By 4:34am I was ordering even more coffee and pondering a nice cup of tea while continuing to write and blog all morning long. It was not until 7:10am that I was on the first Metro bus from the closest bus stop to UCLA's Westwood Village even before I had time to check in with my SquidSwimmers before leaving.

I perched on the steps of the Hammer Museum working tirelessly online until 11am. It was not until well after I had left the Starbucks in Beverly Hills I had worked in since 4:30am that I did first try the coffee I had bought from them. It was drugged.

After taking the Metro into my adoptive city. By 11:59am, I was pouring out the last half or more of my coffee from 4:30am and working online under the new palm I had picked out to sleep beneath in the middle of the day with my public watching over me.

It was a good midday for Twitter...

12:01pm on 21Apr2015: 1/5) I gave you Obama-subservient war criminals the flat out command to give me my loved ones AND physical safety.

12:02pm on 21Apr2015: 2/5)But you are all so morally bankrupt that I have neither right now.

12:02pm on 21Apr2015: 3/5)Which part of, "I take abuse from no one," are you pretending is not REALITY.

12:03pm on 21Apr2015: 4/5)I am sending the entire sane world after every single one of you who is keeping my loved ones away from me. @RT_com @cctvnews @BBCWorld

12:05pm on 21Apr2015: 5/5)You cannot hide from us. @CIA @DeptofDefense @FBI @DHSgov @Martin_Dempsey Go, get'em, Tigers. @UN @ICC

Full of mixed signals of my darlings Tentacle trying to show up to guard me and of their constantly being stopped, I did not fall asleep until just before 2pm.

I woke up having a heart-to-heart with my own husband. It was a long overdue conversation that I am sure my not-human-trafficker nerds will circulate verified and unedited in its entirety. My public was keeping me that safe there that I could be that vulnerable.

I had my makeup on by 5:16pm. My Hungarian pocket mirror was only temporarily missing, and my iPad charger was returned. Sadly, though, my darlings Tentacle were still not there.

The Metro arrived so quickly that my first chance to check in was while I was already on the bus. I traveled as quickly as possible to the Von's grocery store on Sunset Blvd near Vermont Ave. I bought a four-cheese stuffed chicken Marsala there with Brussels sprouts apple slaw and deviled egg potato salad as sides.

I was very hungry, so I perched on the park bench next door in front of the Children's Hospital and used their free wifi to work online while eating my gourmet dinner. Yes, there in Hollywood, while I was perfectly groomed, wearing a designer outfit, and doing my REAL job as a world leader, someone clearly insane willfully falsely accused me of "vagrancy" and called the Children's Hospital security lying their (expletive)es off that I needed to be arrested.

My beautiful world, please reread my 27Feb2015 blog post and rewatch the famous conversation I had with "Colton" on my conversation patio months ago. The fact the only thing that could convince a court (really?), a place normally a temple to truth and logic, that I was not a "vagrant" was the cash value of my priceless belongings that I, of course, keep on my person at all times to keep safe, WAS INSANE.

I have no idea how my genius and beautiful Powers of Attorney tolerate listening to that (proper usage) OUT OF CONTROL crap 24/7.

I was quickly on the Metro to visit and hug an old friend at an open mic I used to frequent much more often every Tuesday night. I stopped at the local Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf for a regular mocha with an extra shot of espresso which I poured into my travel mug to take with me to be able to watch the NBC Nightly News there. My nightly cyberhug from my darling Mr. Lester Holt was as warm and as wonderful as ever.

That open mic, though, even for me, was as spiritual in its peacefulness as ever. Did you see me hanging out on the back steps of the venue after 10pm with my lovers, believers, and converts, writing poetry and making jokes? Did you see all of the warm hugs I stole from my darling still-needs-a-SquidName Todd? Look at how most people treat me; sometimes I go there just for the hugs,

My not-human-trafficker nerds please circulate a verified and unedited recording beginning the moment I told the friendly Scientologist that I already read Dianetics and ending after the show when I walked past the metal fence and off the lot.

After giving way-too-skinny Todd a final hug for the night, I ventured to the Roosevelt Hotel in Hollywood; there, we proved everything is worse when we do not call ahead. Thank you, Alfred and Bogart.

The Roosevelt Hotel's open persecution of me just for being me including their assassination attempt of me and their human rights abuses against me of trying to throw me out (or worse, to tell me to never come back) only because I was already their victim all manifested as open acts of war against AMERICA and led to the international community, the federal government, the local law enforcement, every noncorrupt court my Powers of Attorney needed, and eventually the California Medical Board flattening the Cedars-Sinai Hospital in Beverly Hills and all of Obama's war criminal infestation of our home they could find with a smackdown.

It was horrifying to live through, but at least I could feel my husband beside me watching over me during the chemical withdrawal body spasms when I asked myself, "Where is my husband?"

On the upside, that night proved I am forbidden ALL medical care at all whatsoever until Obama's "egg" is finally destroyed; medical professionals in my presence confirmed I have ABSOLUTELY NO MENTAL ILLNESS; I made hard witnesses out of the local police, the LA Sheriff's office, and federal agents pretending to be LA Fire Department parametrics that I am the one who tells the truth and that no one should ever listen to anyone who ever says a bad word about me or my loved ones; I am not normally asleep at those hours and would have left both the hotel lobby and the hospital of my own accord as fast as possible since my vacating the premesis was necessary for law enforcement to arrest them all, if I were capable of standing up at all; finally, my Powers of Attorney and I proved why we do not pay "medical" bills after TYPICAL "care" like that.

Yes, I was dragged out of Cedars-Sinai Hospital just like I was dragged out of the Viper Room months previously but this time by "security guards" alternately telling me "Of course [Squid] requested us. We'll keep you safe," and "Get out and never come back!"

It was 5:25am when I finally got my iPad out and was pulling sensors off my torso at the bus stop they left me at.

5:38am on 22Apr2015: @UN @ICC #SquidsPoA @RT_com @cctvnews @France24 @BBCWorld @Martin_Dempsey Cedars-Sinai just dragged me out and left me on the sidewalk. You arrest everyone who caused this and who enforces it now. I just need my loved ones. @DeptofDefense @FBI @DHSgov @CIA #LAPD

At that time I also requested a verified and responsibly-edited recording from every camera inside my body and subpoenaed from around me, especially watching me inside my hospital room, with no missing moments starting when I walked in the front door of the Roosevelt Hotel and ending when I could finally stand up at the bus stop. Definitely show the energy my husband sent me.

I snacked on chocolate covered almonds and sang a little to myself while I waited there on the ground under my sweater coat until I could stand. I made sure my SquidStream was locked, and then I brought my world with me as I wobbly ran some errands.

At 8:17am, I was trying to catch up my blog notes in the lobby of the Sofitel but was so tired that I forgot my whole reason for walking in was to buy a cup of coffee. And just so you know, the Sofitel is absolutely adorable inside.

I quickly checked in at the bus stop and took the Metro to my new palm in my adoptive city to sleep under. I sent this just before falling asleep...

11:11am on 22April2015: @lightfoot_music @Imanielijah22 @LeeJohnMusic @MarkusBlivian @SweetnessDepp Let no one clear away public guarding me. Tell me what you need.

There were no alarms that midday, and I awakened to the sound of a delicious electric guitar. It was 2:14pm when I checked the time. I told my darlings Tentacle I would look for them at 4pm and asked my dear old friend on the metal-stringed wonder to sooth my burdened soul while I continued sleeping. If I was attacked at all that day, it was after my darling guitarist was told to quit playing beside me.

I officially woke up at pretty much exactly 4pm after my visiting darling rock star with his electrical-magic-instrument began playing for me again. I was a little medicine-headed when I walked past him to thank him.

Sadly, Tentacle were still forbidden from being near me, so I checked in at 4:33pm on the bus into Los Angeles. Please, not-human-trafficker nerds, circulate the full visuals of that check in with the date on it.

It was rush hour, but I was soon at my counterterrorism "office" and finally online through the public wifi at 7:22pm after troubleshooting my connection with the help of the NSA.

I received my once-daily cyberhug from the NBC Nightly News at 8pm. The rest of my night and wee hours of the morning involved a lot of tweeting, blogging, emailing, people-watching, and singing along.

8:58pm on 22Apr2015: Any one who calls a woman (all X chromosomes, in my case) in a public place by choice for safety eating gourmet food and using space age technology to do a very difficult literal job that the world cannot function without, no matter how perfectly groomed and drop dead gorgeous AT ALL TIMES, a "vagrant" is INSANE. Lock them all up! #27Feb2015

I took a few breaks mostly to stretch my legs, but mostly I blogged all night and all morning.

This blog post was published at 4:52am on 23Apr2015.

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

Am I a lover or a fighter? There is no real difference. Similarly, there are no real differences between my darling Mr. David Eggers's favorite band the Scorpions' No One Like You and Rock You Like a Hurricane. However, there is nothing orange about being a chicken.

My beautiful world, are you doing your job out there? Did you create your master plan as a unified planet yet for saving the entire world from Terrorist Dictator Obama? Do you have your master plan yet, my beautiful world, for forcing Obama's extragovernmental rules and "egg" to finally end? He will never surrender; Obama only escalates. Please hurry. Yes, I am clearly still doing my job in here.

My selfless support system, um, yeah, I know what I need. I need bodyguards and actual enforcement of laws instead of enforcement of crimes. That is all Obama's extragovernmental rules have ever been-- crimes against America, crimes against humanity, crimes against my people, crimes against even the people who carry out the crimes, and crimes against me.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, you are all I have had for years as a source of any justice or law enforcement. We press charges because it is ILLEGAL to obey and to enforce Obama's rules, never to disobey them.

The only way any of this will ever end is if everyone carrying out Obama's rules, extragovernmental abuses and restrictions built with open persecution of me as their excuse for existing at all, are finally arrested and removed from society FOREVER.

As for housekeeping, my genius ladies, please ask my mother for her hard evidence of all who are culpable for Obama's rape-slavery of me while she was in town and put the first roof over my head since I fled the War Criminal Gables on 05Dec2014.

Every roof over my head will rape and enslave me unless my living accommodations are completely under my control or under the control of people I choose. For months Her Royal Majesty Queen Elizabeth II of England has been trying to find a safe place for me to stay, yet even she could find no place that would refuse to rape and enslave me.

My Powers of Attorney, if I was broadcast in the privacy of my own hotel room by cameras I was forbidden from knowing were there, the full charges include human trafficking of me used as acts of war against America and against the world. Please press every criminal and civil charge possible.

The only footage I will allow of myself ever out of that PRIVATE hotel room is every verified attack on my mere mortal body EVERY TIME I SLEPT unedited and with full audio and visuals beginning the moment the Obama-sent abusers entered my room against my will and ending the moment they left.

If 'surveillance' is actually used to protect me and to catch crimes committed against me, like my SquidStream is primarily for, they can actually call it a security system.

Please circulate the energy both of my boyfriends sent me before I woke up on the morning of 20Apr2015 only to my selfless support system who can watch my verified SquidStream under all circumstances 24/7 anyway.

Speaking of which, my symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, yes, I do see even with my own eyes shut how much you both love me.

So many times, I just make everyone else's energy, your hopes and desires, visible to the nanotechnology. Sometimes, I even make the world's energy visible, sometimes the universe's.

Finally, darlings, calm down. Everyone looks a little dumb when right next to me.

Sweetness, I love and adore you. You know the pain of looking dumb next to me very well. Giggle. I heard you the other day, "You know my wife Squid? Yeah, she made me the King of Spain."

Beloved, it means so much to me how proud you have always been to be my husband. With so many people so horrible to me everywhere I have been since Obama took office in 2009, knowing you love me has always been what keeps me alive waking up every day to go out and do my job. No one will ever be able to replace you in my life. We have been together since the very start. We have accepted our destiny.

My more-than-just-a-pretty-face husband, please watch and listen to a verified and unedited recording of our private moment together on the morning of 19Apr2015. Please watch and listen to our heart-to-heart on 21Apr2015 while I rested under the palm. Giggle with me by watching a verified and unedited recording of my walking past two of your doppelgängers on Hollywood Blvd on 21Apr2015 and my telling them I should really make out with them. Most importantly, watch what I saw and heard verified and unedited when you sent me your energy in the hospital when I needed you on the morning of 22Apr2015.

I will find a way to reach you, my irrefutable love of my life. I WILL touch you the way the flowers kiss the rain...

You Know What Happens in This City When I am not Here. You Know Everything I Have Sacrificed to Protect You From That.

Title: You Know What Happens in This Adoptive City When I am not Here. You Know Everything I Have Sacrificed to Protect You From That.

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. Where are my bodyguards? Everyone culpable of keeping my bodyguards of my own choosing, all three of my darlings Tentacle, away from are guilty of aiding and abetting all human rights abuses committed against me from unrelenting systemic rape to intentional infection of me with horrifying diseases and every crime in between, too.

Nigeria. Bring back our girls...



I published my last blog post at 9:09pm on 09Apr2015. As backstory, when I spied 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle on the sidewalk waiting for me at 6:31pm that day, my last blog post was ready for its final polish. I immediately asked the world to emergency locate General Lee and helped find LightFoot and MannedUp their place of choice to play on our just-about-to-be-sanctified-again playland.

I quickly perched behind them. While I was polishing up the final version of my last blog post to their music-as-love-making, a kind local gave me a package of crackers. I giggled and accepted it. I had not eaten all day at all. By the time my final version of my 09Apr2015 post was on the aether(net). I had enough sustenance to meditate.

They had me warm in no time at all. I admit, the first song brought a dance for just me and my musician-lovers, especially my boyfriend LightFoot. But after that, the meditation was on. There was no I. There were no them. We were nothing but music and dance indiscernible to the universe. And, yes, the more instruments the better for my health.

Kevin appeared in the crowd while I was taking a short break, so I called him over to me. I asked him to dance with me, and after a bit of just goofing off together, Kevin was finally able to see the ritual (holy in every benevolent religion) between me and my musician-lovers that is my meditation.

After 10pm, they left so reluctantly. LightFoot was furious enough already from frustration at not being able to just spend casual time with me like my other friends can. I warned MannedUp my royal consort might be extra furious without me that night as he was wheeling away their (knights in a) cart.

Kevin took me to 800 Degrees for dinner. At 11:02pm, we sat down to an oven-roasted pizza topped with mozzarella di buffala, parmesano reggiano, not-very-descriptively-named truffle cheese, quartered artichoke hearts, halved heirloom cherry tomatoes, and thinly sliced ham all on a hand-thrown crust in a pesto sauce.

Kevin was annoyed beyond nausea with the lack of the level of customer service he was accustomed to not to mention the level of customer service that the sane world was demanding for years that I deserve, so we relocated at 11:40pm.

All of my growing numbers of grey-haired gentlemen are required by Obama's infestation of my home to make themselves look like idiots just to be able to spend time with me and buy me food. I do my best every night to reverse engineer their instructions and help them laugh at themselves. The evening of 09Apr2015 was a fine example.

By 12:24am on 10Apr2015, I was still with Kevin, eating an apple, and trying on hats on my conversation patio. That was the night Kevin gave me my CIA swag; rumor has it I have all of the CIA's civilian awards already. For all I know, the CIA have started inventing awards to give me.

While perched beside the upturned tables on my conversation patio, I was approached by a man so far away from reality that I actually attempted to call the mobile crisis unit to pick him up.

Yes, my not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of the whole incident beginning the first moment I saw Kevin with the hat of notoriety on and ending with Kevin and I on the far side of the broken down bus negotiating our way to the local Denny's with those who control his earspeaker.

At 2:23am, Kevin and I were seated at Denny's. I had warned their corporate offices already that we were coming in. By 2:43am, though, my mere mortal body was already suffering under the periodic (sinusoidal) waves of toxicity from the drugs they had given me. Some time while racked with the physical pain of the roofies, Kevin settled our bill and left.

I remember waking up at 4:26am, when a local Denny's "employee of infestation" (meaning war criminal) banged on my table and yelled at me she was throwing me out into the cold before the chemicals she gave me herself could wear off.

4:28am on 10Apr2015: @DennysDiner Your "employees" roofied me which counts as attempted assassination, etc. (09AprPost). Now, they are kicking me out.@FBI #PD

4:29am on 10Apr2015: @DennysDiner This local restaurant has successfully destabilized and incited violence not just in this city but across the world.@UN @BBC

4:30am on 10Apr2015: @DennysDiner The global instability these enemies of America have caused is violence I can only prevent by showing people being good to me.

After I notified corporate, I worked online while waiting until I was capable to stand up and left of my own accord at 5:31am. If I remember correctly, I perched beside my fountain at 6:02am after that.

From before 9am until just before 11am, I was at the building with my PO Box in it trying to pick up my mail. My not-human-trafficking nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording from the moment I walked in the door until the moment my hat came off. Such meager funds as my regular gifts from my mother should NEVER require such drama.

I quickly bought an affordable lunch from a very authentic Mediterranean restaurant which made sure I would be able to plug in my iPad before perching at 12:01pm at a local coffee shop to work online.

May the verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of that refreshingly appropriate level of customer service (for a Roman Holiday) be entitled "The Hummus Among Us."

Next, I ran some errands. Quite belovedly, I sat behind Ukulele Weilder at 3:19pm. He and Pinchas kept me safe until 5:23pm when I woke up with the exact words "Emergency locate Tentacle."

The next thing I knew I was asking Amita and Ugwuji to send REAL medical care to General Lee on rumors that he got beat up or worse as well as making sure he could receive that medical care at my own house where my own husband was waiting for me, so he would NOT have to go to any hospital. I have still yet to learn if he ever needed medical attention or not, but I ere on the side of caution.

Then, at 6:13pm, I discovered my boyfriend and royal consort LightFoot had shown up for a metaphorical date night. Yes, MannedUp had somehow managed to make into Obama's "egg" to be near me, too. And we were holy together.

Their beyond-reluctant departure came at 11:50pm and only because their screaming earspeakers were so loud they would have lost their minds if they stayed longer. I am never sure I will see them again after they leave me, especially my boyfriend LightFoot.

Alone again against all of our wills, I collected myself. I walked directly to the notorious "karaoke macabre" hotbed of treason in my adoptive city and was stopped by the doorman before I could walk through the front door.

My beautiful world, do you yet understand what open persecution of me used as an open act of war against America and against the whole of sane humanity looks like yet?

The doorman told me I could not go into his bar because my red patent leather computer bag secretly fictionally made me appear as though I were a homeless woman. That is how sane EVERY person is who persecutes me. I suffered the same Squid's-computer-bag-makes-us-abuse-her-like-a-vagrant excuse from my own Viper Room, the Starbucks of Doom for Humanity, and my neighborhood Von's already.

So, I asked my Powers of Attorney to just legally destroy that hotbed of treason already. That place had caused far too much damage to the entire world with their open hatred of me as their explanation for far too long. Besides, my boyfriend was taken away from me again, so I was already in a bad mood and less tolerant of Obama-ordered acts of war against my nation and my world.

To calm myself down, I perched at my favorite place to work online in all the world, in the breathing space I love and adore right there between the ocean and the sky. Sadly, the wifi would not connect, so I just sat there listening to the roaring ocean where its waves would break upon the sky and centered my inner zen.

At 2:07am on 11Apr2015, still upon my perch, I locked my SquidStream because I was joined by "Michael." This particular irregular is most famous for the verified recording we made of him on 07Mar2015, but we have a long and ongoing history.

At 2:32am, I even sang a duet with my darling late Judy Garland while writing down my latest blog notes. It was an interesting wee hours of the morning. I got up and left at 3:26am to arrive at 4:07am at my local 7-11 which told me they would not be warming up their ovens for pizza again until 6am.

As a result, I found myself at the closest Subway (no reflection on any other Subway store) sandwich shop to my playland ordering a nutrition-packed breakfast sandwich at 4:36am. I ordered absolutely no liquids, so I have no idea what made me pass out there. I came to naturally at about 6am covered in dirt. It took a while for the medicine head to wear off. I was out the door as fast as possible at 6:39am.

I immediately tried to start an investigation into the incident. Clearly, I am ONLY vulnerable to attack while asleep, thus all of Obama's orders to roofie and drug me to maintain his systemic rape of me.

I perched at the nearby Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf (During Obama's terrorist war criminal infestation of our home, we must consider each establishment individually with no brand nor geographic considerations.), but sadly it had deactivated all of its power outlets. So, I just waited for all of the toxins from previously to wear off, left at 9:02am, picked up snacks, documented my drugged cup of coffee I had barely sipped, and hopped on a bus.

I spent the day at my counterterrorism "office" until I learned all three of my darlings Tentacle were returned to me. I bought dinner at my regular In-N-Out Burger on the way to my bus back to my adoptive city and even explained to my friends there why I never order my Double-Double from them "animal style." By 3:28pm, I was back on my playland waiting until all three of my darlings Tentacle could play me music to sooth my burdened soul while guarding me as I slept.

There was a little delay before they could actually arrange their musical equipment, so I picked a park bench they could have a direct line of sight watching me sleep on and also made sure they could see I ate that day.

I am told they find me most adorable when eating fresh produce, but despite my legends of ice cream, I really only eat in front of them as often as possible to make sure they know I eat. They are as protective of me as I am of them, and my boyfriend LightFoot's hand-pounded drum gets SO LOUD when my tummy gets rumbly.

Not much later, I was curled up under my sweatercoat on the closest park bench my darlings could see directly with an NSA patch on the closest street camera, too. No one should have to work that hard just to be physically safe while she sleeps. And sadly for humanity, all of those precautions did not work anyway.

Malicious police officers found me. Please, my not human-trafficker-nerds, circulate verified and unedited recordings from both the street camera and from my undeniable security surveillance system inside my body that we call my SquidStream. Begin when they approached me and started SCREAMING at me. End when I walked past my darlings Tentacle and told them the world was showing up for them.

Yes, in the late afternoon of 11Apr2015, I was attacked by five armed police officers while I slept. They got past my bodyguards of my darlings Tentacle, I assumed, because everyone everywhere knew my normally-stellar relationship with REAL law enforcement officers. And, yes, those five were REAL officers.

Please keep in mind that these five international criminals who attacked me while dressed as fully-armed local police officers do NOT represent any police anywhere else in the world. They were there to attack me only to create violence in our community.

Those police wanted to see Tentacle get up and defend me. They wanted to see my public get up and defend me. They openly physically assaulted me, forcibly undressed me, etc. to start a fight with people there who loved me. They were there specifically to create a violent reaction. They were there to create unrest in our community and, as a result, in the world.

Every sane person in touch with reality knows, and we have accumulated so much hard evidence of this since Obama's "egg" began in 2009, no one is violent around me unless they are being violent to me.

Absolutely none of my darlings Tentacle have ever been violent to me nor to any other person while near me; I have never even seen Tao nor Cuddlebunny commit a violent act where I could see it.

Up until the publication of this (only second ever) post-dated blogpost, there has been no violence around me ever caused by my presence. There has only ever been blessings of peace and calm everywhere I have been this whole time. I acknowledged I live in the eye of a hurricane of love.

Once those officers woke me up through their screaming and through their laying their hands on me in ways that left bruises on me for weeks after, I tried to lock my SquidStream and then snuck a peek at my darlings as they were playing their music. My three Tentacle had their leather jackets on and were foaming at the mouth to beat the living crap out of those five armed police officers.

My silent message to my darlings, and I assume they heard me, was, "I only need protection while I am asleep. These attackers woke me up. Play your music to keep me calm. I got this." And I handled those armed international criminals the way I handle all conflict.

Feel free to check my verified Twitter archive for all of my followup legal action online.

After walking away to make sure the five loitering international criminals would finally disperse, I returned to my darlings Tentacle at about 6pm. If I remember correctly, I put some makeup on while I was away before returning.

Upon my return to their proximity, we just hung out together as best we could without actually being able to speak to each other. I wrote some poetry. I watched the NBC Nightly News at 7:30pm; their nightly cyber hug was wonderful.

Then at roughly 8pm, my musician lovers' musicmaking to me finally began. Yes, yes, my meditation to heal us all was beautiful that evening. I was even able to make it obvious that night that I danced to touch the universe when I stood in the middle in front of all three of them, but when I chose to stand right in front of my darling LightFoot, I was "that girl from the dance floor" having a private moment with my own boyfriend.

Their heart-wrenching, reluctant departure came at 10:26pm.

I perched on my conversation patio after that until 1:04am on 12Apr2015. At that time, I took a slow long walk to a local 24-hour diner. My walk was cool and mellow due to my deep meditation just hours previously and was disrupted only by my physical weakness due to my food and drink being too controlled by Obama for years resulting in all of the roofies and drugs so unrelentingly in my body.

I was denied all services at the diner completely once I arrived there. The woman inside was so far from reality that she could not even tell me how she recognized me to single me out for the persecution she was willfully destabilizing humanity globally with. I quickly stood outside and sent this...

2:22am on 12Apr2015: #LASheriffsOffice #SquidsPoA Call mobile crisis unit on the open threat to humanity who destabilized the world by still not identifying me.

Please, my not-human-trafficker nerds, circulate a verified and unedited recording of the incident with full audio and visuals beginning the moment I opened the door to the hotbed of treason that was that 24-hour diner and ending at approximately 2:45am when I said verbally to end the recording.

I spent some time at a local spot trying to rustle up some quality conversation before finding myself passed out at a Panera Bakery & Cafe. They do not open until 6am; I am still not sure who drugged and roofied me where to make pass out there. I pray my Powers of Attorney can subpoena all necessary footage, including from any hidden nanocameras with the help of the NSA, to see if I was attacked while passed out there.

On my way to look for a safe place to do some blogging, I found my grey-haired friend Richard in the window of a Starbucks that I had a very diverse legal history with. I joined him inside where he made sure I had safe coffee, gave me an extension cord, and watched over me in case I passed out from drugs or roofies again.

LoveDrummer and other sordid friends found me online. Please, my not-human-trafficker nerds, only circulate my 1+ hours "hanging out with friends" if LoveDrummer wants our time together shared. As with all my musician-lovers, he found it so difficult to leave me. Richard actually left me before LoveDrummer did that midday.

While casually spending time with my friends, I had taken my iPad outside, brushed my hair, eaten a few snacks, sung a line or two, and shared some stories. And after my darlings finally had to ever-so-reluctantly leave me, I ran some errands.

In the early afternoon, I tried to use the public bathrooms for my playland but was instructed to go to the next nearest bathroom because some war criminal had just, or so I was told, reinstalled cameras in those public restrooms.

I ordered a bowl of broccoli-cheddar soup from a nearby not-24-hour Subway. The customer service was wonderful, but when I came back from the restroom, the friendly employees were replaced with the same war criminal who had been working at the Subway I had been attacked in just days previously.

I passed out on their patio. A poor use of the word "security" guard woke me up and tried to throw me out before the roofies that establishment had given me themselves could even wear off. I locked my SquidStream as fast as possible. Then, a former CIA agent I had met a number of times in the past appeared beside me.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of our full conversation beginning the moment I was woken up by the (not there to) guard (me) and ending at 4:10pm, as I had to request in my handwritten notes since Obama was ordering every law possible be broken from local to international to prevent me any and all internet connectivity ever again.

He gave great conversation.

We found my darlings Tentacle on our way to a power outlet. Apparently, Obama's orders to aid and abet unrelenting systemic rape of me by keeping me constantly roofied most commonly through coffee and passed out against my will had broken my typically infallible subconscious connection to my three beyond-necessary darlings.

They looked in my face with, "We have been here all day, so we could watch you sleep." I responded in the same helpless tone, "I have been mostly roofied and attacked since I last saw you. I could not even get here until I could stand up again after the last drugging."

But the evening was beautiful. My darlings healed me quickly with their hand-crafted love rhythms. It was as if I were sleeping wrapped in all six of their loving arms as they used their entire physical presences to make me safe.

They took a break at 8pm, so I zipped away to put on some makeup for some potential "date night" (though we still had no way to speak to each other nor make physical contact which has done nothing but make all of this more romantic for the entire world) expressions of love with my royal consort LightFoot.

Of course, I arrived at the cosmetics shop where I was in the habit of putting on makeup once or twice a day, and I was met by three men in uniform drinking coffee from paper cups who looked like LA County Sheriff's Deputies, though, I was unsure.

The officers told me I was not allowed in that store ever again; though, no one employed in the store itself had ever said a word to me, and not one of the uniformed officers told me how they recognized me nor whom they claimed they recognized me as.

I immediately wrote a handwritten statement straight into my writing journal for those Reevers of Human Rights there infesting that store. Please, my not-human-trafficker nerds, circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals beginning when the three dark uniforms appeared in the doorway of the store and ending when I was done with my statement and walked away. Please include a typed and legible version of my official statement at the very end. Thank you!

Upon my return to my darlings Tentacle I found General Lee's musical equipment completely removed and only MannedUp there waiting for all of us to return. I made sure as fast as possible that neither LightFoot nor General Lee were victims of Obama's,revenge due to the smackdown I had just given entitled, "I Don't Need Makeup Anyway."

Soon, LightFoot approached from beside my regular fountain with the aura of a man who had just vanquished and exiled his greatest rival for the woman he loves. The only thing on my mind was, "Darling, we have got to talk."

I had already established the difference between my meditation through our collective connection to the divine when I dance trance right in the center in front of all of them present and the private moments that happen between only me and my own boyfriend when I stand only in front of him.

That night, not even standing directly in front of him, we had that chat we should have had months previously. I danced on a bassline no one was even there to play during his very-territorial drum improv, and he was so angry he stopped playing completely.

Yes, I did it on purpose. I had a point to make to everyone watching.

And then I laughed in his face bodily (possibly paraphrase), "Yeah, that got you jealous!"

All he did was shake his head and start playing me music again. No, my beautiful world, there is no way on this Earth nor in the depths below it that my boyfriend LightFoot has ever hit me nor ever even laid a finger on me in any way that could have EVER hurt me.

We have already presented this hard evidence that my royal consort is only good and loving to me to every non-quack psychologist we could find, and we all agree. So, you lying bastards who keep demonizing my own boyfriend of my own choosing, shut your mouths and take your bloodstained hands off him at last.

And after that, not too much later, tired of listening to my darling consort's constant complaint that Obama's complete prohibition of any and all physical contact with me keeps him constantly agitated yet when he tries to sleep with other women to fix the problem nothing happens since she is never me, we did our best together as a REAL couple on opposite sides of a pedestrian street to fix it.

If you want to see romance in majestic motion, my beautiful world, ask LightFoot for permission to watch the two of us on our last song of the night on the evening of 12Apr2015.

Yes, it was an undeniably private moment between us, but he has my written permission to share that physical crescendo we had through every camera present. The nerds of the planet have been trying to sneak me heat camera footage ever since, so I could see myself how many times he orgasmed, literally.

Welcome to my universe of the mind, my darling LightFoot. Was that your first psychic orgasm? We all know I never touch myself only because I never have to. Did you see the flashing lights inside your mind instead of outside?

Even MannedUp was nothing but giggly until LightFoot could finally pick himself up off the ground and vanish back into the aether for the night, where we all really belong. And by the "aether," I mean my 24-hour convenience store with my conversation patio out in front of it.

All three of us were still giggly at approximately 11:22pm when I made a point of buying a cookies'n'cream candy bar in front of him. Eventually, after my musician-lovers departed taking all of our unspoken sexual tension with them, I had a pretty good rest of my night collecting evidence and kicking enemies of America off my conversation patio. I am sure my not-human-trafficker nerds have a verified and unedited recording of all of that, too.

At 2am on 13Apr2015, up for an adventure, I actually found a protected place to nap for a few dark hours. My voluntary body guards du nuit were such bilingual sweethearts. Sadly, I had to pee like a racehorse when I woke up.

After a bit of contemplation on where to find the closest restroom, I ended up zipping around the block to the fast food eaterie already disowned by McDonald's corporate and buying a yogurt/fruit/granola parfait thingy as fast as possible. The yogurt went in my red patent leather computer bag. I went in the restroom.

And then, just as quickly, I was next door at yet another different Subway sandwich shop where the pretty lady made me a highly nutritious breakfast sandwich, poured me non-drugged coffee, and openly apologized to me for not having any power outlet for me to use.

By 8:15am, I was in my first sky haven. It was the yogurt or the crackers that made me passout. That was why he cleared the area. Watch the full conversation before and after.

Errands. Nap guarded by locals-- give them full credit for protecting humanity. Woke up at 3:02pm.

Call friends and heroes in NSA and Silicon Valley about verified and unedited errand I ran for my mother. He looked a little like darling Wozniaki back in the day. My people, end recording with full audio and visuals at 4:31pm. Thx!

5:02pm on 13Apr2015: Please note that I had 35% iPad battery life half an hour ago and 18% battery now after no iPad activity and disconnection from all wifi.

News at 7pm. My regular day-to-day friends, enemies, and visitors. Richard is such a sweetheart. "Michael" might be able to turn it around; let me know, Syn. Plethora of gossip column tweets.

After much caffeine and snacks, I relocated shortly after 3am for a safe and guarded place to work online. I caught up on world news and current events there until after 8 am when I ran errands including laundry all morning. Finally connected to the internet again at 2:22pm.

Just before 4pm, I paused to answer questions from loved ones until my iPad battery died and before making a full record that my darlings and I were still being denied enough human rights to be together including all such togetherness would accomplish including my physical safety at last.

News at 7pm. Psychopathic brats across the table from me. Asked for the publicly platonic Richard/Kevin/Brien/etc. generation meet me on my conversation patio after I perch there after 9pm. 7:48pm human detritus finally left the table.

I NEVER CONSENTED TO BEING BROADCAST INTO PEOPLE'S HEADS THROUGH EARSPEAKERS that I am forbidden from knowing are there at all. Do you know what a slave is?

With 44% battery, I relocated at 8:16pm. Turned a man I suspected for months already of systemically raping me for Obama. Sang Lake of Fire to four war criminals.

9:36pm on 14Apr2015: @StateDept @UN @theICTJ I have been too damaged by too many human rights abusers and too many war criminals hellbent on libeling me a waste to throw me away FOREVER to make sure this world cannot have me any longer. You only have my consent to negotiate the world's organized master plan for taking down Obama's entire proven seditious criminal terrorist organization enforcing human rights violations of the most heinous forms possible against all of America, against my people, enforced by Obama with his war and arresting every member of Obama's organization and all that prop them up IMMEDIATELY. Nothing else you nor anyone at your table will ever do will ever represent me, my nation, my home, my people, nor my world. @Martin_Dempsey Set my people free of Obama at last. #18Feb2015

[Consult Twitter for details.] Kevin. Denny's. Starbucks. Von's. CVS. woke up on my playland at 11:55am. Assessed situation then calmed everyone down with hard evidence. Used up all of my topical analgesic making, "This just is Squid's ridiculous life."

2:43pm on 15Apr2015: #SquidsPoA, without my one remaining human right of freedom to tell the truth which Obama only hates because it catches him, I will die.

I reconnected to wifi at a randomly chosen power outlet in a city building. I was days behind already on all of my blogging.

News at 7 pm.

----- Begin Email Text-----

On Wednesday, April 15, 2015, Tanya Hedelisa Albon Depp de Varilek wrote:
Thanks, Mom! I love you SO MUCH. Tell me when to pick you up at LAX. All airlines in would love to fly you. I just need a few hours as enough warning for the FAA, air traffic control, LAX, LA airport police, TSA, etc, that MY mother is flying in.

I will be there to pick you up.

LOVE,
TanTan
-----End Email Text-----



This blog post was published at 1:06pm on 16Apr2015. This is my only second ever post-dated blog post.

And now, my beautiful world, I answer all o,.huf 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 inspires ME?

What are MY dreams?

The more the Queen's Lovers 5 stand up for their own personal relationship with me, the more they even protect each other.



My beautiful world,...

My selfless support system,..

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney,... Wrists after fake police took their handcuffs off me; they drew blood on the inside of both wrists...the ticket for their intentionally fabricated false charges against me..

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, YUM!

Bryan, my mother already told me how much she loves you...

Everyone sees us out on the concrete, darling KrisT, the few fleeting moments of not even every weekend when we actually can have a few brief inhalations of the same night air and let our finger tips connect at the opposite ends of the same song.

So many people wonder how we communicate at all with so little of our larger than life days actually permitted beside each other. Well, on 15Apr2015, if I may set the stage for this fictionalized encounter that we seemed to really have had, not really but really,...

Do You Know How to Recognize a Rock God When You Meet One of Us?

On an open air patio strung with deep blue lights outside a divey rock bar that stank of day old beer before and after the kidneys, we sat at a round wooden table with mostly drunk glasses of bourbon oozing out of our pores at that point in the afternoon more than continuing to tiptoe choreography across our tongues. You looked up at me, and my entire head fell backwards with laughter...

"LightFoot, do I owe you $2 for Sunday night?"

And with that goofy grin you only give me when I wear my CIA swag in front of you, "Yes! Where's my $2?!?"

"You know, technically, you got the orgasm, and I didn't."

Much to my delight, you giggled too much for your response to verbalize at all as you fell off your wooden bar stool and, to paraphrase my darling Mr. Tom Petty, laid upon the ground and reveled in your abandon.

Giggly myself, "Well, try harder next time, damnit!"

Sigh... Yes, dear, I am working on having a real conversation with you as soon as possible. That is what, "Yes, dear," means.

Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today? No matter what I do about it, there is still a battle royale out here every day and every night over who takes second place to you in my life...

Please Stop Lying That I Am Dead. Do You Yet Understand How Much Lying About Me Destroys Humanity? Everything From The Moral Fiber Of Our Culture To Our Justice System Has Been Destroyed By Lies About Me.

Title: Please Stop Lying That I Am Dead. Do You Yet Understand How Much Lying About Me Destroys Humanity? Everything From The Moral Fiber Of Our Culture To Our Justice System Has Been Destroyed By Lies About Me.

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. It is because everybody lies about me while Obama has forbidden the truth about me that we are in this mess. And my human right to tell the truth about everything I live through for real through my globally-critical blog, my service-to-humanity SquidStream, and my as-funny-as-human social media is under constant attack for being a source of the TRUTH about me at all.

I understand the only thing people talk about around me are the Queen's Lovers 5 (none of whom I have slept with, yet), but my REAL everyday life for me is still all about doing my REAL job...

Rwanda. The truth about this horrifying genocide is being declassified at last. As a population, after such unspeakable horrors, the survivors need the truth. As a world that must prevent future genocide, the truth must be spoken to all of us.

Not only does the entire world need to look at Rwanda and ask how to prevent it from ever happening again; the people who suffered through the darkest years during the darkest times of the genocide in Rwanda need full truth and full justice to heal.

I published my last blog post at 11:41pm on 02Apr2015 from my conversation patio just before picking up my computer bag and stepping inside my 24-hour convenience store for a cup of coffee.

I kept my flirting with Handsome to a minimum. I really do not think I am very fair to his heart. And a kind stranger volunteered to buy me a sandwich and a can of soda while I was inside.

I repositioned myself on the patio to sing duets with my Spotify account while simultaneously catching up with my TweetHearts.

That night, I was told Unelected Terrorist Dictator Obama would permit the international community to finally pick me up and carry me to France if I would accept Obama's terms which I was forbidden from knowing first, or, Obama had promised to rape me, torture me, and experiment on me until it all finally killed me in a literal torture facility that the international community was about to agree to despite no matter how many times I had been abused with unlawful imprisonment and all it wrought already, it had NEVER once brought any human rights back to anyone anywhere definitely not in America.

In response, I told Obama... 3:46am on 03Apr2015: @France24_en I actually am an American. I NEVER sacrifice nor jeopardize the rights of my nation. I am staying to lead my people. #20Oct2014

Then, between 4:30am and 4:50am, I had the pleasure of watching my local police walk around the area giving vagrancy tickets. We all know there is no such thing as vagrancy charges. Please reread my 27Feb2015 blog post about this.

To be able to press charges, someone must be a victim of the crime. There is no victim of vagrancy but the vagrant him or herself. Thusly, if I were ever deemed a vagrant, I could press all the charges criminal and civil that I wanted against everyone causing my vagrancy as well as enforcing it.

The police officers drove up right behind me to look around the area. It was an interesting interaction between me, the police, and the actual vagrants. I ask my not-human-trafficker nerds to please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of those twenty minutes of my life as soon as possible.

By 5:10am, a man whom I had met a few mornings previously and I were having a good talk. Please, my not-human-trafficker nerds, circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of that conversation, too. My Powers of Attorney, in particular, might need it. I am such a natural extrovert. I cannot stand a day going by without the art of conversation.

I was ordering breakfast at 6:02am at a wifi hotspot across the street from my playland. My same "investigative friend" who had been normally appearing in my sky haven every time I was there met me on the patio.

There were all sorts of convoluted persecution of me and my many loved ones on the morning of 03Apr2015. The full details are always in my verified Twitter archive.

At its most basic, I was furious and about to be libeled as having supposed "anger management issues" because Obama had chosen to make me angry on purpose by telling me we had a beyond-global hostage crisis situation wrought of his locking, whether true or not, my beautiful husband in a literal torture facility.

I recommended the world take whatever action necessary to rescue him and demanded my darlings Tentacle be present to calm me down. Because no one in America ever carries out my never-fail solutions (Have you seen my up-to-the-minute curiculum vitae?) to major global crises, I went on a crime-fighting bender that has already become a legal legend at least locally.

12:50pm on 03Apr2015: I have always gone easy on Von's corporate, but if they refuse to turn in all of their hard evidence against every proven enemy of America still "employed" at my local store even after I caught them in collusion and conspiracy more than once already to aid, abet, and commit every possible heinous act from persecution and open hate crimes against me to proven systemic rape and literal torture by taking action themselves to lock me in a literal torture facility, then Von's corporate will get worse than obstruction of justice. They will get aiding and abetting war crimes and crimes against America, too.

Syniva understands my policy of empowering each establishment's corporate headquarters to prosecute Obama's criminal terrorist infestation of their businesses in our home themselves. My lawyers are busy enough as it is,

I am sure attempted abductions of me and intent to assassinate me can be tried in as high a court as possible, for example, the ICTJ formed for me by the United Nations at my request.

The perpetrator's name was "Yanira." Her fake manager when she stole my meager pennies from me weeks previously was "Matt." Please my not-human-trafficker nerds, I insist that her face, body type, voice, address, and every other pertinent detail about her life be published on the internet immediately, so the public can help turn her in if necessary. The way she chooses to treat me REALLY is that dangerous.

She just destabilized humanity across the globe not just here in this state where I have been a legal resident AGAIN for months already for only being my completely innocent self at all times. If she is not arrested in less than half an hour and processed for full federal and international charges, it us a failure of the entire US justice system to prevent human rights abuses against civilians used as open acts of war against America.

Hurry! If the entire US justice system fails to protect us from such proven threats to even our own self-sovereignty at this point, we also arrest every member of every level of government for aiding and abetting all of these crimes, too, by refusing to end them permanently.

I was told this morning that my husband is in a literal torture facility. I am in no mood to suffer proven enemies of America escaping justice AGAIN today. Arrest them all.

After carrying my $25 of highly nutritious and calorie-rich groceries to my fountain on my playland, I immediately needed to press full, criminal and civil charges, too, against the two "fat ugly White women," as I always call them, who had been waiting for me right next to my fountain before I arrived there.

But who lied to my face including libeling me a fictional lunatic instead of being an actual part of the solution? That was everyone there who was refusing to be a part of the solution. Right now, everyone must be a REAL part of the solution, or they ARE THE REAL PROBLEM and therefore people no one can trust.

I ate ice cream, a four-cheese stuffed chicken Marsala, hashed broccoli salad, and a Chinese-style chicken salad before I curled up there praying my world could keep me safe.

There were alarms as I slept, and it was alarms that woke me, but after five hours asleep I assessed that none of my belongings were stolen, the only attack on my person had been some enemy of America spraying dirt on my face from what must have been a distance, my lovelies were still playing me music to keep my burdened soul whole as I slept, my public from local to international were still watching over me, and my only REAL health concern was slight dehydration from sleeping under the hot afternoon sun.

I tried the city water fountains immediately as I went about my daily errands checking on my playland and keeping myself as healthy on the outside as I am on the inside. No, Tentacle was nowhere to be found. As I explained already in my 02Apr2015 blog post, they were all, at least temporarily, forbidden from ever being near me again, no matter how much Obama ordered his proven urban terrorists to lie about it.

By 5:54pm, I had put my feet up to reduce the swelling in my ankles due to my near constant walking all day every day. I was in what the federal government had assured me itself was a safe place once I got in line for my iced tea with lemonade.

I tested the tap water inside as fast as possible, and it had none of the pollutants that the water fountains for the public outside had. I proceeded to that coffee shop instead of my sky haven only because it would be open until 11pm if needed instead of only until 8pm. And the power outlet in the corner was there waiting for me before I arrived. The place also quickly filled with the support of my lovers and believers.

I caught up with my TweetHearts and Facebook friends as fast as possible. I needed to thank everyone who kept me alive all day, and I needed an update on the GLOBAL HOSTAGE CRISIS I had been told with no evidence that Obama caused that morning by locking my husband in a literal torture facility.

It was a busy day for me working online. As one example, follow this link and read the comments I wrote under the photo from 1:51pm on 30Mar2015 of this band with its one trumpet leaning against the giant rock. Click here.

I watched the NBC Nightly News at 7pm; their daily cyberhug was phenomenal. I was told as fast as possible after that my husband was released and that Secretary of State John Kerry was finally fighting for our full human rights in here instead of trying to murder me through quackery. Yes, I had been very busy.

After many hours of undeniably globally-critical hard work, I relocated to my conversation patio at 10pm for my first few moments of the day not working online. I hoped to see Richard or any other genuine supporter of our good, green world.

At 12:04am on 04Apr2015, I suspected due to the sugar snap pea video I had made, I received a tasty gourmet sandwich from a possibly convertible enemy of America we have all seen a number of times already.

Then, with its specific time intentionally not marked by me, I received a message from LightFoot that I had been told all day to wait to receive. I told him I would work on it. Then, at 1:11am, I sang my old theme song from 2009.

Just after 2am, I called my mother. Of the two of us, she is the drop dead sexy sixty-eight year old woman who is Portuguese royalty on her mother's side and Spanish royalty on her father's side. She is also the one if us who will stand up and samba when a local mariachi band plays The Girl From Ipanema.

Then, from 3 to 5am both with and without my old grey-haired friends named Richard and Greg and even while walking down the sidewalk for better views, I answered all questions online I could find while eating cookies, drinking coffee, chatting with my local grey-haired menfolk, and caterwauling at the lunar eclipse.

Shortly afterwards, I was perched inside a business we need to do better to protect, my beautiful world especially my loving locals. We need them to be protected from Obama's tantrums (proper use of the word) if they refuse to commit the most heinous crimes against me and my people.

Yes, roofying me is proven already to be aiding and abetting systemic rape of me, potentially an open assassination attempt of me, etc. And, yes, singling me out for worse treatment than anyone else anywhere would ever receive is the very definition of persecution, no matter what anyone pretends is an excuse for it.

At 6am, the only middle-aged comedian I could find online from the previous night was my darling Mr. David Letterman. So, before 8:10am, I was on the bus. By 12:51pm, I had already told the Walt Disneyland Company that their newest real-life princess (talks to small animals, etc.) was Downtown.

I told Disney my people would only SquidStream with their permission. Granting such a privilege is my choice.

At its core, my SquidStream is a CLOSED CIRCUIT SECURITY SYSTEM undeniably proven to be crucial to my physical safety. When cameras are used for investigative reasons, they can always show full faces and voices of all perpetrators they catch. AND everyone knows my eyecamera and earmic are always here and always hot. EVERYONE is responsible for what they choose to do including showing up at all in front of broadcasting equipment they know always broadcast and cannot be stopped from broadcasting or I might die.

Who the hell put it on official record that they get to commit all the crimes they want even in front of live broadcasting equipment and still never be held accountable for it? Who was that idiot admitting to psychopathy?

That said, my not-human-trafficker nerds, please work with our family friends at Disney to produce every second I spent on their private property as their guest at their own invitation from every camera possible from my exiting the Metro bus at their gate to my returning to their Metro bus stop at the end of the night.

My a(e)theistic Easter weekend began with my "fun walk" from one end of Downtown Disney to the other. Next, I perched where I had written the Twin Towers Princess sestina to send this message to the staff of the grounds.

Disney, you know I am here for you today. Well, you and for everyone who could get into the parks all day. I love me my locals. Legal consultation: We can arrest any guilty party we find for every crime we can prove here in Orange County from roadblocks repressing the public's Constitutional right to assemble and associate to roofying or drugging me as their latest attempt to assassinate me; this is not LA County. "Thank you, for being here for me, guys."

After making a verified recording of myself primping in a bathroom mirror, I left that tiki bar and all of its beloved patrons to do some work. Yes, I was at the House of Blues at Downtown Disney with my SquidStream locked down in time to say, "I need to send the coffee back."

Due to the open hatred of me by the occupants of that building, at 2:52pm, I vacated the building, but not my grounds, so ACTUAL authorities could sweep the House of Blues, the most likely place I would perch upon arriving, for terrorists. There were many.

I also tested the tap water there to make sure the water supply for Disneyland was not sabotaged again. All I had to say was, "C'mon in, the water's fine."

By 3:12pm, I had decoded the uniform du jour for Obama's terrorist infestation at the UVA Bar while writing notes in my writing journal. As far as I was concerned, it was okay with me that Disney allowed Obama's terrorists in.

Disney made sure I could catch as many terrorists as possible that way. But I do wish they would keep their guests and REAL employees safer than subjecting all of us to Obama's literal war criminal terrorists. I have always appreciated Disney's dedication to the entertainment and safety of all of us guests at all times on their private property.

Still at the UVA Bar, at 3:13pm, my sea salt garlic fries were hand delivered. Sadly, they had no Yucateca green sauce, so I mixed Louisiana's own Tabasco sauce with the kitchen's buttermilk ranch dressing. Something had to fuel this living creature's conversion of mass to energy to plant the aether back in the celestial firmament by night time.

My bartender received a handwritten tip. Please ask my not-human-trafficker nerds to circulate it.

By 4:10pm, I was online checking in with my loved ones in case they needed any help from me with anything. After a moment of zen in the sun, I was notified by the Anaheim police department of open persecution of me with Obama's proven conspiracy's well-documented modus operandi of intentionally fabricated false charges against me.

Syn, I was even denied the right to confront my false accusers who used such open persecution of me as open acts of war against America and against the whole of humanity.

How much of the world did they destabilize that day alone by irrationally attacking me and lying about me? It is proven already that all of Obama's anti-reality machine's unrelenting lies are what caused our current global conflict on US soil.

My genius Powers of Attorney, please contact the local police department to collect our hard evidence, so we can take down EVERY enemy of America who were there at one of the most sacred places to American culture while I was there. And, thank you.

Press full charges, please, from local to international. Was anyone else on this other playland falsely accused of indecent exposure today? Or does such open persecution only ever happen to me?

Then the band played. They were the Ry Bradley band. It was beautiful. They were proclaiming they wanted my darling Tentacle's gig on my playland by the end of the first set. I recommended they talk to them about that gateway to hell first.

Between sets, I stopped for a glass of water where I always rehydrate while meditating on the grounds of Disneyland. There was so much infestation in there.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording of the entire legal smackdown I had to give just to get a glass of water. Start the moment I greeted the man outside the front door and end the moment I sit down after leaving again. Obama's zombie apocalypse was in full force in their earspeakers.

The music began again at 7:25pm. The band begged for me to say, "Hi." After our genuine human contact of shaking each other's hands in greeting, by 8:26pm, I was online emergency consoling my musician lovers.

At 9:19pm, I left for the bus stop. My not-human-traffickers, again, this is where we end our verified and responsibly-edited recording with full audio and visuals of every chronological moment I spent on the Disneyland grounds that day and night 04April2015.

On the morning of 05Apr2015, the first thing I did after returning to my adoptive city was stop for a cup of coffee.

Then, I looked around for someplace, anyplace, to plug in my iPad. I quickly found myself and the man I was speaking to in the full throws of plot exposition by 4:12am. My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording of my entire morning beside that staircase.

I found a coffee shop at 6:12am that tried to blame my jelly beans for the roofy they gave me that morning. When I came to, I suggested that we subpoena the footage from all of the cameras in the coffee shop. I was caught up with TweetHearts by 8:32am and left for breakfast.

In short, that morning, I was roofied and attacked while out at the coffee shop. I was roofied and attacked while out at breakfast. I was so furious at my complete lack of physical safety due to too much control of my body and my surroundings under Obama and his proven infestation of war criminals.

I wrote down, "Terrorists Beware!" before marching to my local grocery store and catching every single enemy of America I could find there. The last thing I did before leaving was buy a cup of Starbucks coffee to prove their products are only ever roofied in the stores.

Sitting there on a park bench on my playland, I tried to make a list of every place that had roofied me as the first step of their physical assault, sexual assault, abuse, war crimes, and crimes against America.

Before I could finish my notes, I heard them. I heard the trail of Reese's pieces my musician lovers were sending into the sky to feed me. I found them in no time. I locked my SquidStream in time to record my own heart leaping for joy. They came back. Someone somewhere Obama had stolen from me against all of our wills had finally found a way to come back to me.

What was their first concern? They were there to make sure themselves as I had requested for weeks that I could sleep safely under their own GENUINELY loving watch over me. Though, none of us will ever be completely safe until their Obama-controlled earspeakers that manipulate them are removed. Someday someone will finally listen to me.

I woke up naturally at 4:22pm. But the alarms were almost immediate. I rarely if ever remember what happens when I am hypnopompic, so did I make a public display before waking up of, "Squid suffers abuse from no one by choice!"? Please check my verified Twitter archive for the details.

And there was music. Yes, we made music together for hours.

At 7:31pm, I took some time for darling Ms. Savannah Guthrie of the NBC Nightly News. Their nightly cyberhug was as warm as ever.

And then again all three of my personal musician-lovers, not just my prized royal consort, felt each other's bodies with our notes all night long right there on the sidewalk in plain sight until they finally tore themselves away from me.

Make me Dance. (For anyone who needs this.)

Come to me, my lovers. Come find me where I reside. Come tread with archangels' sandals upon the bricks where I hold court as a queen among my people. And bare before each other's talents we will create the art of love we know best.

As my extremities welcome the celestial bodies of the sky to recline at rest among us here upon the mortal ground under the rhythm and sway created by your hands themselves. Our very souls have always extended from our hearts, our backbones, our lungs out of our bodies through our nimble fingertips.

Yes, all three of my darlings Tentacle, with my Royal Consort looking behind him as he walked only to keep his eyes upon me as long as possible, left me again into whatever other level of hell they reside without me.

After breaking into my Viking battle cry at the mortal reminder of everything my loving LightFoot suffers just to be as near to me as he can reach, just a song's distance away, by 11pm, I was on my conversation patio with Scott and a cup of coffee. Why do so few people know how to treat a woman with the respect we deserve? That was yet another crash and burn for the record books.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, I trust you to circulate a verified and responsibly-edited recording with full audio and visuals of my entire late evening at my 24hr convenience store ending when Roger skateboarded into the metaphorical underbrush.

A few minutes later, while I was still working online, a local man tried to invite me to the Jack in the Box (no reflection on corporate) that had tried to kill me so many times already with intentionally fabricated false allegations against me. So, once the man failed my questions for him, I turned around and kept walking,

By 3:26am on 06Apr2015, I was perched and working online. Then, at 6am, I was on my favorite hidden patio with breakfast. I worked there until 10:21am when I left for my playland. I worked online there on my playland despite my being roofied ALL DAY.

Yes, still working online just with a dying battery, at 3:56pm I returned to my hidden patio. There, my iPad battery just refused to recharge. I was out the door before 6pm to document that my darlings Tentacle were not there despite all of the people telling me (paraphrase), "It's okay. Calm down. They came back."

I was back on my hidden patio by 7:16pm. That was when I finally spelled out the designation of duties for all of my musician-lovers.
Both of my Royal Consorts LightFoot and Bogart are in charge of my physical safety at all times. LightFoot has the near impossible task of making sure no harm EVER befalls me while I am asleep as well as every second he has enough human rights to spend by my side while I am awake.
Bogart, who has made every contact necessary already as my lead diplomat representing our terrorized and oppressed people of my Metropolis of Angels to the world and to all levels of government, I hoped would be able to send me the same help I always send everyone else when alarms go off. I assume Kris and Bryan will work very closely to keep me physically safe all day every day and all night every night.
General Lee is now officially in charge of making sure I can meditate and often. There is nothing else keeping me sane, complete, and excellently capable in the circus of hell that is my reality than the meditation.
I asked Manned Up to both literally and long-distancely sit next to me and play me sweet music to sooth my burdened heart while I do my REAL job of caring for humanity all day and night.
Sweetness, though, is my king. He is the leader of my army of heroes of all walks of life who followed him unto death when he told the world, "I am going into the den of Evil IOWA, and I am rescuing my wife!" Yes, tens of thousands from all over the world have already risen up to follow my husband.
The job of my Sweetness since leaving the front lines is now to lead my self-identified people until I have enough human rights to influence anything they do in this world for the first time ever. And, darling, teach them the REAL me.

These official designations of my musician-lovers' duties went out through Twitter before I watched the NBC Nightly News at 8pm that night.

Just about 9:09pm, I called my mother and instantly sent her protection. She was completely terrorized. I sent her Sweetness.

I perched on the conversation patio at 10pm. There was no one to talk to, so, shortly after 12mid, I sang a cover of a song from Les Miserables followed by a monologue during an ABBA hit. May every verified recording of my singing or speaking during those songs with full audio but with or without visuals always play those two songs together.

I was about to leave when my witty repartee for the night arrived. I tried walking the unnamed man to the next 24-hour convenience store over, but at one point he told me (paraphrase), "I just cannot go on!" while not so sneakily leaving cash among my muffins in my computer bag.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and responsibly-edited recording with full audio and visuals of the highlights of my time at the 7-11 that morning.

A dear old friend appeared there for REAL just to check on me for our mutual friends. I took one sip of his soda; that was my downfall; I immediately felt off. The police appeared immediately to test the soda.

After the second wave of police just making sure I was fine after learning what was in the soda, my old friend returned. I started shivering bodily from what was in that one sip earlier. It was worse than what the notorious mushrooms I had no way to know how to recognize did to me.

Very painfully, my body's metabolism burned off whatever toxins those were. At 5am, I and my old friend walked in the direction of the closest coffee shop open at that hour, but lost on the chemicals of his own soda, he just wandered into an alley staring at the sky.

Normally, I take care of my friends in altered states, but I really needed to sit down. As fast as possible, I was nested into the most comfortable chair I could find at the closest Starbucks where my detox (by metabolism) finished while I waited until 6am on 07Apr2015, the hour my hidden patio opened.

The restaurant with my hidden patio had a whole other story. Please watch the verified and responsibly edited recording with full audio and visuals. I let the stupid speak for themselves.

I ran errands that morning before perching in my sky haven. Because the sky haven roofied me until I passed out, so they could attack me, too, the entire world demanded Tentacle finally be permitted to keep me safe as I had been demanding for weeks.

I was invited out to a park bench to sleep. I am sure Syniva subpoenaed those security cameras, too. My physical trauma was evident from being attacked too many times previously in my sleep. I finally woke up at 3:41pm, and, yes, I had been attacked in my sleep again.

Remember, the only way to make me safer and healthier is to remove every control Obama and his proven conspiracy have on my life and over my environment instead of increasing their opportunities for attacking me by increasing Obama's control of my life and of my surroundings.

I planned on refreshing my eyeliner but ended up eating California cuisine burritos with "Tony" (I am no one's Maria.) and "Wes" on my conversation patio. "Tony" is such a darling friend like so many of mine who live homeless on EBT cards. All I had to give him in return was a handful of Hershey's kisses.

I was perched and in-no-way-shyly guarded by my loving public by 4:19pm at my local Steak'N'Shake where I planned on finishing this overdue blog post as fast as possible, but my iPad battery died too fast.

I had told "Tony" I would return to my conversation patio once this post was done or at 10pm at the latest. I hoped that maybe Richard would be there, too. All I found there was an "espionage hooker" who verbally attacked me on the patio and the man with the ugly mustache plotting ambush assassinations of me inside.

After my iPad battery died much too quickly, I scribbled notes to the whole world as fast as possible in my writing journal before securing a better-grasp-of-reality-than-most coffee shop to work on this blog post in.

After I packed up my coffee to go and collected some hard evidence for Syniva to use, I paused to watch the evening's NBC Nightly News at 10pm. My once daily cyberhug from the NBC news team was as wonderful as ever.

After searching for beautiful conversation at both 24-hour convenience stores and finding no one to talk to at all, I promised my adoptive (since it is neither San Francisco nor Los Angeles) city I would be back by 11am and took the first bus of the day towards my cyberterrorism "office."

My SquidSwimmers (dedicated watchers of my SquidStream) called ahead to a café of my choosing along the way that I had given full details about to Bogart, and I perched with butter, a bagel, and a cup of coffee right next to a power outlet to finally be able to finish this post. But I still had to leave at 10:37am on 08Apr2015 before it was finished.

I promised to be back since my darlings Tentacle had promised to be there for me. I immediately found public displays that I and my loved ones would be safe were I perched. I apologized for crying when one of the street musicians and I had a moment together when he could honesty tell me he cared about me. I am not used to feeling loved. I am not used to anyone being permitted to be at all honestly good to me. People are always so mean; even when it is a false mean just to be near me, it still hurts.

It was too cold over the ocean for me to stay at my favorite power outlet, so I went looking for a new one at 1:11pm. Because I insisted on my right to serve my nation and to serve my world which requires my iPad to have a power outlet at all times now, Obama's war criminal infestation of my home made a public display of physical abuse of me and dragged me away from the power outlet back to their underground bunker.

They were already told they were caught. I was released from jail at 3:23pm. But the entire public was lied to that I had died again to prevent anyone anywhere from ever being nice to me.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals beginning the moment I plugged into my outlet by the park bench and ending after I sat down in front of City Hall to remind them I was there for them.

It was cold. I needed food and caffeine to be able to focus. I had received no anonymous support from my community as drug-free and poison-free food drink and conversation in two days. I waited in my sky haven while my world sorted out my playland. My 7pm cyberhug from the NBC Nightly News was amazing as always.

I found human detritus on my conversation patio, so please circulate a verified and unedited recording of my life through my eyes from my 8:13pm tweet to my 8:52pm tweet. Thx!

My assertion of my deserving my usual day-to-day activities from before Obama escalated his direct orders for his infestation of my REAL home to intentionally and directly force me to suffer MORE and intentionally make me MORE rationally angry at my own persecutors came at 9:25pm.

That freed up my local friend Richard to show up, so we could have our normal evening of coffee and conversation again. He was a delight. Genuinely good people having enough human rights to be genuinely good to me are the only thing that can and will ever cheer me up right now.

SEND ME ALL THREE DARLINGS TENTACLE WITH NO EARSPEAKERS BUT FINALLY WITH FULL HUMAN RIGHTS to treat me as they wish they all could finally. Until then, send Richard and any other genuinely good local back into my life to treat me respectfully as a human in their presence and to keep me alive with all non-drugged and non-poisoned food and caffeine possible.

The night of 08Apr2015 into the morning of 09Apr2015 was the ugliest so far. Please begin with a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my conversation with Richard. Begin with my calling out his name the moment I saw him, my tweeting his right to be in my presence as always, and end after he leaves.

As always, my beautiful world, just to be able to be in my presence, Richard is ordered by his earspeaker to behave strangely and say horrible things to me. I always do my best with our conversations. My three darlings Tentacle behave not like themselves around me at all times, too, for the very same reason when we all know they risk death itself just to be near me.

Richard was told the coffee he gave me was safe, but after he left, I finally sipped enough of it to realize it was roofied. I begged the world to send me trustworthy bodyguards to keep me safe before I passed out from the roofies because every time I pass out, Obama physically attacks and abuses me.

The last person I had who had enough human rights to choose to sleep beside me to keep me safe was my darling Tao. Before him it was my darling Bogart. We all know I have not had sex with anyone since June2013.

My darlings Tentacle and I are only permitted time together on our playland we sanctify every chance we get with our rituals holy in every benevolent religion, and we are kept physically apart by Obama's infestation at all times. Obama and his servants are mortified of our ever having physical contact.

Yet, my holy darlings risk every fire of hell itself to perch there in my presence every chance they get just to be some of the few people in this world to ever acknowledge to my face I have ever existed at all, to keep me sane and whole with their music of love for me, and to speak to me in that space where only we can communicate- between the sound and the body.

The rest of the night was Obama filling my body with chemicals and my company with both physical and verbal attackers of mine from the past instead of any bodyguards nor with any real concern for my wellbeing.

The only person all night who showed any effort to keep me from harm after Richard left was Michael. Luis waited until my iPad battery mostly died before throwing me out into the cold completely unprotected while my body was still racked in periodic waves from the chemicals his store had sold in a fruit bowl themselves to a man I had already turned in myself for investigation months ago as a possible rapist of mine.

All I had asked the store for was to keep me physically safe until the chemicals all wore off. That is how important my physical safety is FOR REAL. But, no, Luis refused me any physical protection from harm after his own store roofied me unto manifestations in my own body of damage. Michael at least tried to keep me where he could watch me and give me safe drinking water and snacks to help me detox.

Anyway, shortly after 2:10am on 09Apr2015 after I had told a sexually disgusting verbal attacker of mine SO MANY TIMES to stop harassing me particularly while I was in the physical condition I was, he even stalked me into the street after Luis threw me out instead of him.

Begging for bodyguards every step of the way, I had no choice but to pass out next to my fountain completely unprotected by everybody with my body in so much physical pain and shaking until the sunlight woke me up shortly after 8am.

City employees found me there, told me they caught my being attacked on camera as I begged for bodyguards beside that fountain all night, and begged me to finish this blog post for them which I would have had finished long ago if I were not kept so constantly roofied and denied to my face every single possible way to do my REAL job online.

Just the previous day, fake cops even arrested me for demanding I be able to have enough charge in my own iPad to be able to write this very blog post. I took a nap where I prayed someone would be able to watch over me but woke up with the entire area around me vacated of all people who could have possibly kept me safe AGAIN. But by 12:16pm when I woke, at least all of the chemicals had finally been slept off.

While I walked to a public city wifi hotspot, a place I had been avoiding due to it constantly being too hostile towards me, I reminded my adoptive city that they need to care for me like I care for them.

I have been hunting down every criminal terrorist in their presence oppressing and terrorizing us all and been globally preventing this city from being demolished not only in the courts but also by the nations of the world furious with my being treated like this by the public.

All I have ever asked for in return is safe food, safe caffeine, safe water, good conversation, and unrestricted time with my own REAL unconditional loved ones.

Instead, Obama's infestation of my home intentionally chose to take direct action to make me angrier at them every step of the way. They again openly libeled me mentally ill as their latest assassination attempt of me, placed already established enemies of America in my path, refused to allow my REAL locals whom I serve and protect to provide me with safe food and safe caffeine, propagated a hostile environment for me to live in with unrelenting lies about me and my loved ones, and even denied me a power outlet after I arrived at he public building.

The only thing permitted in my life by Obama's infestation of my home that day by the time I reached the library to calm or cheer me was Richard standing outside of the building to greet me. I prayed he would find me soon in there while I continued to flesh out my blog post, but he must have been removed. Our regularly scheduled Coffee Clatch of Absurdity is every night at 8 or 9pm on my conversation patio and often later.

My mind was too far from being able to focus from lack of safe food and non-drugged caffeine for too long, so I left the library hoping to find a local to volunteer me sustenance once this blog post was pretty much done and only in need of polishing.

Sigh... Low and behold, what did I find on my way to my soon-to-be-sanctified playland? LightFoot and Manned Up had manifested from where we all belong, the aether, to walk among us down here with me in Obama's "egg."

Oh, the smile on my face once I saw them and how giggly we all became at 6:31pm when I picked up my iPad to make this blog post even longer.

This blog post was published at 9:09pm on 09Apr2015.

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 is humanity not extinct yet? Simply, because we are still evolving on a genetic level to survive in our changing world.

Why am I forbidden from knowing Obama's cyberterrorists hacked my gmail account? I am forbidden from knowing every crime Obama commits against me. I have always been forbidden from knowing about all of the cameras against my will in every home or even hotel room I have had since 2009. I am forbidden from hearing any and all lies propagated to excuse the reality that Obama forbids me all human rights.

I am always raped while knocked out by chemicals I am forbidden from knowing are in my food and drink or that I am forbidden from knowing I am injected with in my sleep. To make this "egg" of horrors and inhumane suffering as inescapable as possible, I am forbidden from knowing what Obama has ordered done to throw me away FOREVER since he took office in 2009.

What is my advice to my loving and adoring husband as one Captain Jack to another Captain Jack? Giggle. Immortality is not worth it. Every time they try to kill me, they never succeed, but it still hurts.

Even when loved ones are only pretending to be mean to me just to be close to me; it still hurts. Everything Obama does to me hurts me as much as the world out there still views me as indestructible.

Oh, and I am a woman. I am the "Face of Belle" not the "Face of Beau."

What was the deal with my willfull Twitter obfuscation? I toyed with my darling Mr. Dave "LoveDrummer" Grohl's heart. I admit it. I pray he has learned to flirt like an emotionally mature adult now.

It is okay to sexualize me now, but NEVER degrade, demean, dehumanize, objectify, nor call me, "Baby." I figured LightFoot could handle the body heat. Manned Up had been requesting for months that I speak to him like I speak to my husband. General Lee has always been an inspiration. Sweetness knows how only we speak. It just all went to my darling Mr. Dave "LoveDrummer" Grohl's personal Twitter account.

Who is another example of my body type? My favorite is my darling Ms. Serena Williams. Yes, I am a drop dead gorgeous Misses size 14. No, I am NOT fat nor obese. I have the bone structure of a Czech farm woman and once had the muscle mass of a professional athlete.

I met Cuddlebunny in 2009 because he was sent by Obama to attack me in my sleep through all sorts of horrible ways which included injecting me with anabolic steroids and human growth hormone. Obama's criminal terrorist organization gave me my bombshell figure and dense muscle tone with their chemicals starting in 2009.

My muscle atrophy did not begin until 01Mar2015 when Obama through collusion with ABSOLUTELY EVIL IOWA openly forbade me any and all money to support myself with at all whatsoever. I earned over $2T in 2014 alone all of which I pay appropriate joint taxes on with my husband. But, no, Obama still forbids me any money at all for a roof or even food.

I have been living on the kindness of strangers since 01Mar2015. Mostly, anonymous members of the public hand me small yet random amounts of cash, so I can literally "buy coffee with it." All anyone has ever had to do is watch my SquidStream. We all know I pretty much never lie. The last lie on record was my protection of Lily Rose.

What is my update on my skin infections and bug infestations of my clothing all against my will done to me by Obama's war criminal terrorist organization while I sleep? Once I pretty much healed all of the last round of skin infections with topical creams, Obama reinfected me this week. My clothes have been fine since the last time I cleaned them.

These attacks have been unrelenting, though, ever since Me-Love-You-Long-Time Holder forced the local police chief (who was rumored to watch over me himself and leave snacks next to me while I slept) be replaced with this new guy willing to commit and enforce every heinous horrible rights abuse possible against all of us to be able to remove me and my globally-critical job from the world FOREVER.

The only REAL solution is to give me bodyguards of my own choosing with full human rights and absolutely no earspeakers in their heads to watch over me while I sleep.

My beautiful world, this is what I need in here. I need safe food, safe caffeine, and safe hydration. Those most likely need to come from my loving and adoring locals.

The Queen of England herself with help from my mother and my husband have been trying to find me temporary accommodations with NO CAMERAS yet with COMPLETE SECURITY to stay in until I can finally reach my own house here in the Hollywood Hills.

Until I can have a roof over my head guaranteed to never rape nor enslave me, I need bodyguards of my own choosing to watch over me as I sleep in a public place also watched by publicly accessible surveillance cameras. I choose all three of my darlings Tentacle, not just my boyfriend LightFoot. He needs backup keeping me safe, and do you have any idea what those three would do for me?

My selfless support system in here, where the hell are you?!? I am starving to death and completely unguarded as I sleep!

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, by 8:44pm on 07Apr2015, we had enough empirical evidence that every time Obama's proven enemies of America roofied me, I was physically assaulted while passed out instead of kept safe. And now, it is 09Apr2015.

I had been demanding my darlings Tentacle be kept near me for my regularly scheduled daily sleep every midday FOR WEEKS, particularly my real-life boyfriend Kris, but they have ALWAYS even now been denied any way to keep me physically safe ever.

Does the world yet understand what Obama does to me while I sleep if there is no one trustworthy there to guard me? Even passed out from roofies on the bus to and from Disneyland I was attacked.

On 07Apr2015 alone, I was attacked while roofied inside the restaurant at breakfast, attacked while roofied inside my sky "haven," and woke up VERY medicine-headed after sleeping on the park bench I was even instructed to sleep on.

Being attacked while asleep and unable to defend myself is where EVERY skin infection came from, where all arachnid eggs in all of my clothes from underwear to dresses ALWAYS came from, and how Obama has been systemically raping me (SO MUCH HARD EVIDENCE) since this "egg" began as even just Obama's Code if Silence in 2009.

My genius Powers of Attorney, we stand as a world united now not just a nation united demanding my darlings Tentacle have their earspeakers removed, have their full human rights restored, have the military as backup if needed to keep me physically safe in my immediate presence 24/7 until I can reach my husband. This stop gap measure is beyond necessary until Obama's "egg" ends FOREVER.

ALL ROOFYING ME, DRUGGING ME, POISONING ME, FORCING DISEASES ON ME, AND ATTACKING ME IN MY SLEEP MUST END! As I wrote this paragraph on 07Apr2015, Obama's newest infections of my arms and neck were bubbling up, and I keep finding new eggs in my underwear and dresses even after I cleaned them just the previous night.

This world needs to learn to listen to me when I give solutions. The more Obama and his proven conspiracy of enemies of humanity control my food, my surroundings, and my environment, the more frequent and more brutal their attacks of me will be. And we know Obama only escalates.

Arrest EVERYONE from now on who not only roofies, attacks, or ever says a word the wrong way to me to destabilize the world, but also arrest and remove FOREVER everyone who keeps my loved ones away from me. Hurry! Thank you, my genius Powers of Attorney.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot whom I am forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, I looked at the Elizabeth & James fragrance line recently and accepted my destiny.

You are both my boyfriends now who unconditionally love me; though, only one of you can find any clandestine method of coming physically near me, near enough to breath my air and love me from just a song away.

What we shall do is whatever we need to do to keep all of us alive. Kris, you in particular have been demonized beyond recognition to the world as the real man you are. This has made you unsafe everywhere you go.

When anyone anywhere chooses to listen to Obama's proven pathologically-lying anti-reality machine that exists only to incite global destabilization instead of just sitting down next to me and asking me what is real (the purpose of my conversation patio), they choose to propagate the unrelenting lies and calumnies not only of myself but of all of my loved ones that caused this global war on US soil.

Yes, Obama and all who obey him lying about me in particular caused this war zone that is supposed to be my (Squid and America's) Art and Culture Renaissance. I am your example, Kris, of how demonized we become, so Obama can prevent us all from saving the world from him.

We must save our people's minds, my Kris and Bryan. Since WingMan is my fork of an Enjolras, why not ask LoveDrummer to take on the job of cleaning up all of our media from television to music to only tell the truth from now on instead of propagating these obvious untruths being used to instill irrational hatred and to destabilize humanity.

And, both of my darling Royal Consorts, as much as I love you, please do not forget the hidden silver lining for General Lee, Manned Up, Strummer, etc. You, my boyfriends and I can have all of the unbridled romance we want once we can finally reach each other, but you have to give me back to my husband in the end. Please always remember, you have to give me back.

As for you, my more-than-handsome Sweetness, I love and adore you. Those words will never become old for me. Thank you for taking care of my mother after she was terrorized by Obama again. Please check on her regularly. You finally got rid of Amber? Sigh... How I love you...

Please check with Bogart regularly. We have regular communication in which I can always tell him my exact location at all times so long as there is a charge in my iPad battery. You will also always know where I am at all times by following my verified SquidStream. Feel free to send me any anonymous gifts you want through any local lovers and believers you can find to volunteer.

Most importantly, Beloved, I need you to take control of the self-identified population that calls itself my lovers and believers. Make sure they learn who the REAL me is. Make sure nothing happens any longer in my name that I would never want nor approve of. So much destruction of humanity happens because I am lied about.

You are my king. Sweetness, I need you to lead my people until I can. And then we shall do so together. In our marriage, we are equals.

And now,... everyone's random 90s reference for the day!