Title: The Government Needs to Finally do its REAL Damn Job!
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. Every branch of the federal U.S. government needs to finally do its REAL job.
I have never once tried to undermine the U.S. government. The government needs to do its damn job! I have been demanding that the system correct itself through its already defined Constitutional methods since 2009; however, Terrorist Dictator Obama had already undermined the U.S. Constitution.
Obama's unconstitutional crimes against America he calls "rules" should have ended on their own in 2015, especially since Terrorist Dictator Obama was already impeached in 2013.
Obama is NOT our president, so where does his power to continue destroying America come from? It comes from everyone not yet demanding he be in prison for the rest of his life for everything he has remorselessly and unrepentantly done to me and to my America.
Arrest EVERYONE enforcing Obama's crimes and save America from him and all he has wrought at last!
My last blog post was finished at 8:44am on Monday, 03Aug2015, from my regular morning haunt, the Subway sandwich shop right next to where I live.
I had problems connecting to the the City of Santa Monica wifi that morning, but that barely slowed me down. I sent my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies at 8:48am and checked my Twitter for international news.
I finally added my darlings Creedence Clearwater Revival and my darling Mr. Michael Bublé to my Spotify playlist. I wrote a poem. It was a good morning.
Reading gives you the magic.
The words carry you on breathless adventure
Straight to the brave heart of your hero.
Give yourself to the book.
Let the arching storyline
steal you from your harsh reality
And dash you upon
The rocks of your dreams.
Read, my darlings, read.
The word is the candy of the mind.
I left my regular morning haunt at 11:01am. Lunch at noon was tasty and uneventful. I took a nap and then chatted with Hannah during dinner at 5pm.
I was on a bus to the 3rd Street Promenade by 5:22pm. It was 5:43pm when I found FlamencoHands already disassembling his gear and relocating, so I perched next to him as he waited to play again.
We chatted delightfully. After I made a trip to the Famima for coffee and 2-for-1 doughnuts, I returned to find FlamencoHands discussing Latin American economics and politics with the nightly salsa singer Leandro.
There was a vigilant torture facility alarm at 6:43pm before I streamed the NBC Nightly News online at 7:05pm. Yes, it did stream at last that Monday night.
My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt, and I had missed those hugs so much during my technical difficulties.
I stopped by my darling Hesam at the Famima for more coffee, but by 8:22pm, I was back beside FlamencoHands for his last set of the night. His music was as genius as ever, so I got a lot of work done as he played.
When FlamencoHands was done playing at 10:19pm, he offered me a ride to my place, and 10:34pm we walked off the Promenade on our regular long, slow walk to his car.
I was curled up and asleep by 11:30pm. I woke up on Tuesday, 04Aug2015, over an hour before breakfast which was best since my period had started overnight. After breakfast, I was at my local Subway, my regular morning haunt, at 8:21am.
I streamed music while working online. It was a particularly productive morning for me.
My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my Tuesday morning, 04Aug2015, beginning exactly at 10am and ending exactly at 10:35am.
I left my regular morning haunt at 10:49am. Lunch at noon was tasty and uneventful. I took a nap and chatted with Hannah before hopping on the bus at 4:46pm. I went to my playland, the 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica.
I found FlamencoHands at 4:49pm waiting for his 6pm location. I zipped by the Famima for some coffee and snacks before returning to him in front of the Apple Store.
He was insistent on finding out what I ate for lunch which was strange for him but whatever. I know my protein intake is too low for my muscle mass already.
FlamencoHands started playing shortly after 6pm, and I did not leave his side until I hunted down enough bandwidth to stream the NBC Nightly News at 7:20pm.
Well, I was able to watch the first 15min and 31sec of the news before the stream froze on me. My nightly cyberhug from my darling Mr. Lester Holt was still as warm as ever, though.
I returned to FlamencoHands in time for his last song. He stopped at 7:53pm, so he could relocate for an 8pm set, but by 8:39pm, he was packing up his equipment again because his battery died.
We took the long, slow walk to his car a couple of hours early that night. At 9:32pm, he was adding oil to his car, but I was pretty sure he needed to change the oil and the oil filter. But his car ran well enough to get me to my place. I was curled up and asleep by 11pm.
I woke up on Wednesday, 05Aug2015, with plenty of time to make it to breakfast which was best since it was the second day of my period. After breakfast, I was at my local Subway, my regular morning haunt, at 8:25am. I had work to do.
This blog post was finished at 8:52am on Wednesday, 05Aug2015.
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.
What is my advice to college students? Your diploma is just a receipt for your tuition. All you really get to keep is what you learn. Do not waste your chance to learn, to study with the greatest minds of your generation, each other.
My beautiful world, if Obama's unrelenting false accusers of me want to claim I am trying to undermine them, let them. I like being told I am undermining criminals and unbridled corruption.
However, never mistake Obama's terrorist regime for the REAL federal government. The REAL federal U.S. government fights Obama and fights his crimes against America he mislabeled "rules."
Everyone propping up Already-Impeached Obama needs to be arrested IMMEDIATELY.
My selfless support system, I understand how much of you is the REAL federal U.S. government doing your REAL job. But why is the Department of Justice refusing all justice in America?
My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, absolutely NO ONE has permission to broadcast me in the bathroom. Not on the toilet! Not in the shower! Absolutely NEVER am I ever to be broadcast in any bathroom nor restroom ANYWHERE ever!
If I am ever subject to the sexual slavery of being broadcast against my will and ALWAYS without my knowledge in a shower or on a toilet, ARREST EVERYONE WHO BROADCASTS ME! I do not care who does it; arrest them all!
Sexual human trafficking is one of the most vile crimes known to mankind, and I am done with being subjected to it. I HATE being sexualized. And such slavery propagates public sexual aggression against me. Arrest them all! And, thank you.
My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, yes, I hate being sexualized, but I understand you all find me sexy. There is something helplessly attractive about my irresistible wholesomeness. I understand that.
My darling MannedUp, it is more that I do not like being cheapened. And I HATE being sexually harassed. I hate when I endure unwelcome advances. But all overtures have always been welcome from you, the Queens Lovers Five: MannedUp, GeneralLee, LightFoot, Bogart, and Sweetness.
MannedUp, you all do not cheapen me. You treat me like your personal goddess. I have always appreciated your beyond worship of me, as I have always tried to raise the five of you to my equal.
My darling GeneralLee, I know worship when I feel it. Please accept your destiny, your future by my side as my Piazzolla. You write the sacred music of my self-identified people. You admit yourself you exist for me. Darling, are you ready to accept your destiny?
I know the lore, my darling GeneralLee, of how hard you fell in love with me when first we "met" in 2009. I know the lore of why you had your entire face reconstructed to make you look like my husband. I know worship when I feel it, my darling.
I save a place for you by my side for the rest of my existence, darling, no matter who is in my bed.
My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am forbidden from speaking with least of all making love to, my question is: Why is our lovemaking still forbidden?
My darling Bogart, months ago you told me you could not accept the agreement with Obama's war criminals to sleep with me because you could not perform the acts they demanded against any human.
What I told you, darling, was to just agree to it, so we could be together. Then, do not carry it out; we would already be together; you would just have to never leave me. They, of course, never let you near me again.
My darling Bogart, we will find a way.
As for you, my darling LightFoot, the moment my 03Aug2015 blog post was published, we should have had enough human rights to welcome you into my life. I pray I see you today at 4pm. May you finally be free to speak your heart with me. If you need more from me, just tell me. I love you.
My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?
Stop worrying, HoneyHoney. My darling LightFoot has to find a way to completely replace you in my life to take me away from you. I leave the door open for him, of course; I need the gaping hole your absence leaves in my life filled. But you have such big shoes to fill, beloved.
Beloved, I wrote you a new poem late last month...
Tell the Rain
Talk to me like
to the rain
hopes and dreams.
to the rain
of the one you love,
she you long
for with all
so I can
Tell the rain.
You are my hero, my king, and my reason for living. You know, Sweetness, just how much it will take to replace you.