Thursday, April 16, 2015

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.

-----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...

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