Title: Why I Always Called Taylor "Tom" Instead...
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. At last, the great mystery of why I call my darling Mr. Taylor "MannedUp" Hanson a different name, "Tom," instead is finally revealed. Keep reading.
Greece. Please reread my 06July2015 blog post regarding the Greek debt crisis. I offered to pay their billions of dollars of debt for them in return for them trying my new global economy. It sounds like they accepted, but it is so difficult for me to get details. May their suffering finally have ended in Greece.
My last blog post was finished at 7:01am on 13Aug2015 from my bedroom where I stay. I had plenty of time before breakfast at 8am.
By 8:22am, I was already outside of my local Pico Branch of the Santa Monica Public Library for the morning sipping coffee and sending my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.
My music randomizer quickly streamed Bruce Springsteen. I could already tell the weather would be HOT all day. It was a very good morning.
I sang from 9:15am until 10:01am. Do we have a verified and unedited recording? May I request one? Please create a duet video for my darling Ms. Kelli Rae Powell.
At 10:32am, I returned to my place to collect the mail my mother sent me. It was Thursday. She sent it Monday. But it did not arrive yet.
I was at my regular haunt, my local Subway, by 11:47am for lunch. And by 2:02pm, I was on a bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.
I found my darling FlamencoHands quickly, but there was no sign of my darlings Tentacle. FlamencoHands tickled his Spanish guitar until 3:54pm.
And then at 4:08pm, I did spy with my little eye my darling LightFoot and my darling MannedUp. There was no wiping the smile off my face. They started at 4:22pm, and I tried meditating.
It was not so bad until I could no longer find any shady areas to dance in. She was an unforgiving California sun that hot afternoon.
I was sitting down by 5:02pm waiting for the shadows to creep across me. A kind gentleman offered me some lemonade; it was actually quite a delightful way to spend the afternoon, if it were not so damn hot in the sun.
I thought I found a nice place in the shade at 5:27pm, but my arms had tightened up on me in the interim... Sigh,... There was just no way to meditate.
I figured if I took my Benadryl at 6pm, I would be fine by the time I was done watching the news if I started streaming the news at 8pm.
While my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle staked out their place to play at 8pm, I visited my darling Handsome at my Famima for coffee and then again for doughnuts.
Then, I talked with my darling FlamencoHands since he had paused playing from approximately 7pm to 7:24pm to accommodate the street dancers next to him.
As planned, I streamed the NBC Nightly News at 8pm. My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt, and it was full of love and amazement.
My darlings Tentacle were taken away from me. I had seen LightFoot try to warn me while I was still talking to FlamencoHands.
8:38pm on 13Aug2015: LightFoot and MannedUp were taken away from me. Please get them back by 10pm. #SquidsPoA @CIA @UN PLEASE!
I was lucky enough to find Denmantau to meditate with starting at 8:37pm while my beautiful world sorted out my darlings Tentacle.
9:39pm on 13Aug2015: @SynivaWhitney #SquidsPoA @CIA @UN @Martin_Dempsey Please check on #MyDarlingsTentacle. They just asked for some legal help. Thx! #LOVE
I ran into "Kevin" in my Famima at 9:44pm. I bought a late night snack and made him promise to come back. He said he would try but had some business to attend to.
Leandro, the salsa singer, stopped at 10pm, and Red, my Americana folk singer, started at 10:03pm. I left before "Kevin" came back. I took the 11:15pm bus and was curled up and asleep by midnight.
I woke up on Friday, 14Aug2015, with plenty of time for breakfast, and I was at my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, by 8:24am. I quickly streamed music and took my I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.
My music randomizer made me feel very sexy and very loved that morning. Do we have a verified recording of my bilingual Besame Mucho yet?
I walked back inside my Subway for a cookie at 10:02am. And I worked there online until 11:06am when I went back to where I stay to try and collect my mail from my mother again. And, yes, it did arrive that day.
I chatted with Benjamin over lunch at noon, and by 12:56pm, I was on a bus to my playland, the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.
1:34pm on 14Aug2015: @KalydeOfficial(#MyDarlingsTentacle) When do I get to see you today? I will have to sit out 6 to 8pm but should be dancing the rest of today.
I grabbed a cup of coffee at my local Famima at 1:44pm.
On their patio, I updated my blog notes then walked from the Promenade to the Pacific Palisades, down to the ocean, with my feet in the mighty Pacific across the beach to the Pier, up the Santa Monica Pier, and back to the Promenade returning at 2:52pm still sipping my coffee.
The Pacific Ocean was gorgeous. There is an internal peace that can only be obtained from touching the sea. It stops my wings from rustling.
After a brief scent of a line of Reese's pieces, at 3:34pm, I found MannedUp and LightFoot. After sending a quick, "Check on GeneralLee," I was in the hot sun trying to meditate.
It was good. Oh, it felt so good, but they had to break at 3:47pm to relocate. They staked out a place to play at 6pm. Sadly, I thought I would have to sit out 6pm to 8pm. At least we would have 8pm until the moon sent us home.
I stopped in the Yogurtland for some ice cream substitute, and when I walked out at 4:24pm, I ran into FlamencoHands. He was in a particularly good mood; that, or my infectious good mood got to him.
My darlings Tentacle began again at 6:18pm, and I felt good enough to meditate despite knowing I should wait until 8pm. But, oh, the meditation was glorious that early evening. By the time the devout Hindus danced by, I was in the zone.
I kept my word with my darling Mr. Lester Holt, though, and still streamed the news at 7:15pm. My nightly cyberhug was gregarious and kind.
My darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot took their mandatory every-two-hour break at 7:46pm. I had managed to catch their last two songs.
Benjamin had joined me out on the Promenade before the news and came back for their last song before the break, but he left soon after.
I was beside my darling FlamencoHands at 7:54pm, and my darlings Tentacle decided to wait to play again at 10pm after FlamencoHands was done. The Spanish guitar was particularly genius that night.
I took a break from the music to use the ladies' room and ran into an old Native American friend Robert who offered me dinner at the Famima. "Kevin" wandered by and joined us at 9:24pm.
After eating, "Kevin," Robert, and I met outside of the Apple Store at 10pm to dance, but Robert left before LightFoot and MannedUp began at 10:12pm. By 11pm, I was following music I had never heard before.
"Kevin" and I left it all on the dance floor that night. We were both catching our breath when the music stopped at 11:17pm. The night was glorious. That is what making love with your music looks like.
Reluctant to leave, MannedUp and LightFoot slowly picked up their equipment. I walked over to see FlamencoHands just feet away before 11:31pm when my darlings Tentacle wheeled their carts away back into the night sky where we all really belong.
"Kevin" promised me ice cream, and my darling FlamencoHands promised me a ride back to my place. There I was sitting between "Kevin" and FlamencoHands on the Santa Monica Promenade eating Haagen Dazs which is most significant if you know who "Kevin" and FlamencoHands really are.
I was curled up and asleep (always alone) by 1am. I woke up on Saturday, 15Aug2015, over an hour before breakfast. This blog post was finished at 7:30am on 15Aug2015.
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.
How do I feel about people reading my fiction and attributing symbolism to everything? Readers do that to every author. It is why we writers choose our imagery so carefully. Whether it was conscious or subconscious symbolism, there is a reason each image is in my writing. Please tell me Whiskeyless Fictions is published.
When I was a kid, what did I want to be when I grew up? When I was tiny, I wanted to be a ballerina. In high school, I was bullied in my dance classes. Iowa is so evil. So as a teenager, I wanted to become a marine biologist. I was always a nerd, or as the erudite call us, a bluestocking.
My beautiful world, we need Obama's "egg" forced to end. What did you do to help today? I recommend arresting every evil (expletive) who enforces the human rights abuses that are Obama's "egg" of horrors and abuse. Please press criminal charges, my beautiful world, against everyone who enforces any of Obama's "rules" on you.
My selfless support system, you keep me alive in here inside Obama's "egg." Thank you for everything. I can feel you are happier and lighter hearted that you used to be. I am glad if I have in any way made your lives easier. Thank you.
Speaking of heroes, my BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, yeah, ladies, YEAH! You keep kicking their unholy (expletive)es harder and harder. I have never been so proud of you, my closest friends from all my life. Thank you, yes darlings, THANK YOU!
My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, it felt amazing to see you again. The sexual tension is so thick these days we could eat it with a spoon.
My darling MannedUp, are you upset I call you Tom? I understand I should have always put the name in quotes. My darling husband's role in 21 Jump Street was Tom Hanson.
And that was the start of my prepubescent crush on him. It was the start of our greatest real-life true love story in human history. I just got used to calling you Tom. You tell me what you want me to call you, okay?
My darling GeneralLee, please stop with your, "You can do better, Squid. You were supposed to choose me." They would have killed you by now, Brien. How many times have they tried anyway?
It is better this way. I get to keep you. No matter who is in my bed, I get to keep you by my side for the rest of my life. Never forget that Obama's abuses have been unfair to me, too, not just to all of you.
My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, there is no one to whom things are most unfair than you two.
My darling Bogart, I sent my mother my photo of us together when I tried explaining to her who both of my boyfriends are. She was a little giggly when I brought it up which surprised me mostly because she has not listened to new music since 1965. I think she likes you.
My darling LightFoot, yeah, I tried telling my mother who you are. It went over well. She only said, "Honey, they all have a lot of hair," once. Giggle.
I like when people call you my boyfriend which people started doing to my face on Wednesday, 12Aug. You have a long way to go if you plan on replacing my legally-recognized husband in my life, but I gave you that door for a reason. If anyone stands a chance, it is you.
My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?
Yes, HoneyHoney, we are the most romantic real-life true love story ever in human history. I am so in love with you. You literally started a land war to rescue me from ABSOLUTELY EVIL Iowa. A love like ours is so very rare.
Beloved, in so many ways, I cannot fathom my future without you.
My hero and my king, we share the silver moon. At night, do you ever gaze upon the waxing and waning orb knowing I look at the same silver moon dreaming of you? Send your kisses to the moon at night, darling, and he will send them down to me.
Trust the moon, beloved, to tell me ever deep secret you can tell no one else.
I was so empty last night, darling. I need this gaping hole left in your absence filled. I just need something, any part, of my indefinite suffering to end. I get so horrifyingly lonely. My life is so empty without you.