Title: My Fuel is Snacks and Caffeine... and Anger.
Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me; 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. "The world will always have crises." That is my job security. I will always have work to do. Thank you, United Nations, for prioritizing my to-do list. I am a machine that converts coffee and snacks into global crisis resolutions.
Europe. Please, all refugees seeking a better life in Europe, help Europe help you. If you make yourselves invaluable to Europe, they will welcome more of you.
Make sure you combine with the culture of the country that takes you in, and ALWAYS contribute to their society. Instead of taking away jobs, create business and create industry. Create jobs even the locals can have in the nation where you land.
Give them your music. Give them your art. Make their lives richer everywhere you go. Give Europe every reason to love and need you. Build yourselves a home. You must give to Europe not your money but your heart and your time. Create love between you.
My beloved Middle Easterners, not every European nation is rich. Many countries including Greece have huge problems already and have no resources to provide for you. You need to help Europe give you a home.
My last blog post was finished at 7:22am on 02Sep2015 from my bedroom. After eating breakfast, I was outside the Pico Branch of the Santa Monica Public Library by 8:17am. I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies quickly and tweeted them to the aether(net) at 8:22am.
My internet gnomes were playing me T. Rex's Children of the Revolution as the construction workers next to me warned me things were going to get pretty loud. They were doing some work at the library.
At 9am while still sipping my coffee, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from the previous evening. My morning cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt, and I loved hugging him back.
By 10:08am, I was on the patio of my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, working online, streaming music, eating a breakfast sandwich, sipping some caffeine, and greeting the passers by.
I left for my place at 11:09am. Lunch at noon was uneventful. I took a nap. After waking up, I chatted with my roommate Hannah for a while before boarding the bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade at 3:47pm.
By 4:36pm, I was perched on the patio outside of the Famima gossiping with Maggie. Patricia joined us with her black tea with cream by 5:16pm. I walked back inside for a red bean sesame ball at 5:24pm. At 6:04pm, I went back inside for another cup of coffee and some 2-for-1 doughnuts.
By 6:17pm, Patricia and I were listening to a live street musician named Kaila Shaw together and openly wondering what happened to my darling FlamencoHands. We had not seen him in a week.
I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:15pm. My nightly cyberhug from my darling Mr. Lester Holt felt so comforting and warm. It was magnificent.
Well before 8:32pm, I was listening to beautiful viola music while writing on this blog post. I was working so intensely, it took a while for me to check the time.
By 9:44pm, I had bought more doughnuts and sat outside Harvelle's to wait for ODean to show up. My buddy "Justin" rode by on his skateboard. I waved at him, so he came over to chat.
Just in case ODean did not make it, "Justin" wanted to know what time to swing by again, but ODean appeared at 10:05pm. It feels wonderful having such sweet friends. My buddy Ken joined us for a while before "Kevin" manifested from the aether. Then we all went inside.
Every Wednesday night, the House of Vibe play at Harvelle's. It is always a good show, and I should stop by more often.
Somewhere during the night "Kevin" and I slipped out for a little nosh at the Interactive Café on Broadway between 2nd and 3rd. But we were back inside dancing in no time. My entire alcohol intake was one sip of Kevin's Pinot Grigio.
And at 1:32am, we found ourselves walking to Wilshire and 15th for matzo ball soup and carrot cake. I was back in my bedroom by 3:10am. It had been a fun Wednesday night.
I was curled up and asleep by 4am. I woke up on 03Sep2015 in time for breakfast. After eating, I was on the patio of my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, by 8:21am.
My internet gnomes played Metallica's For Whom the Bell Tolls for me while I sent my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.
The sky was dark, and the air was cold like it was going to rain that day. My singing along while working occurred from 8:43am until 9:31am. I worked online out on their patio while sipping caffeine and snacking on a cookie until 10:09am when I headed back to my place. It was a productive morning.
I changed my clothes into my outfit I had just bought to show off my trim midriff at 11:04am. And suddenly realizing my friends would want selfies of the outfit, I left for the Pico Branch of the Santa Monica Public Library.
My not-human-trafficker nerds, I request that you circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my 03Sep2015 from 11:20am until 11:30am. And, thank you!
I chatted with Benjamin during lunch at noon. By 12:22pm, I was on a bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade. Mostly I hung out with Maggie over coffee on the Famima patio coming and going while looking around for people I knew.
1:12pm on 03Sep2015: @KalydeOfficial(#MyDarlingsTentacle) I am going to look around for you guys at 2pm but won't worry unless you're not here by 4pm.
4:09pm on 03Sep2015: @SynivaWhitney Dude, #MyDarlingsTentacle aren't here. Find them. Make them safe. Keep an eye on me. I'm going to get angry. @UN @ICC @RT_com
I tore into Self-Admitted War Criminal "Wes," I tore into the first man who sexually objectified me that day, I tore into the "Save the Children" (expletive)hats whom I really need removed from the Promenade for hate-mongering against me.
I also looked around for a low-danger terrorist hotbed to take down. Barney's Beanery would be too easy. I needed something that would make Obama hurt.
I wanted to put on my CIA hat and take down someplace like The Misfit. Much like the Viper Room, rumor has it Sweetness and I own The Misfit.
The only thing that was going to calm me down was my darlings Tentacle. Obama was in for it if he kept blocking them from showing up. The next closest salve would be reconnaissance that could lead straight to arrest warrants.
Please check my full Twitter activity for the late afternoon and early evening of 03Sep2015.
5:06pm on 03Sep2015: This woman sits alone in a bar, and no one speaks to her? Nefarious wrongdoing is afoot at the Circle K.
Ye Olde King's Head Pub, home of both the dance macabre and the karaoke macabre, actually had expats in it again instead of its "new normal" small army of "beautiful haters."
Their day shift actually seemed mostly cleaned up. It was always the late shift that was the problem at the King's Head, though. I am told their karaoke nights are still all-macabre-all-the-time.
My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a recording with full audio and visuals of my 03Sep2015 from 4:34pm until 5:36pm verified and unedited except NEVER show me on the toilet. And, thank you!
By 5:59pm, Patricia and I were on the patio of the Coffee Bean with our coffee and tea. I rustled up enough bandwidth to stream the NBC Nightly News online at 7:15pm.
My darling Mr. Lester Holt gave me my nightly cyberhug, and it reminded me that I have a lot of work to still do in this world. My good, green world needs me and loves me.
At 8:11pm, I had perched near my buddy Shonn's electric guitar for a few hours of zen, if possible. Nothing can calm me down like my darlings Tentacle, so I took the closest music to me I could find.
After Shonn's battery died, I caught the bus back to Pico. I was on the patio at my regular haunt, my local Subway, noshing on snacks and sipping caffeine by 9:21pm. I was curled up and asleep at my place by 10:30pm.
I woke up on Friday, 04Sep2015, with plenty of time before breakfast. This blog post was finished from my bedroom at 8:01am on 04Sep2015.
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.
Do I consider myself "young at heart"? No. I am burdened, wise, and world-weary. I have an old soul. I take the responsibilities of my existence very seriously. But I do admit, I am a bon vivant; I make a point of enjoying everything I can while still alive. I am resilient, not young. It is how I prove Obama has not yet destroyed me.
My beautiful world, are you coming to save America? Please call Secretary of Defense Ashton Carter and President of the United States of America Martin Dempsey if you want to send troops to help.
A lot can still be done through diplomacy, too, though. Make sure Obama's bloodstained quacks take their hands off me forever. Give me my address, so I can finally just take a taxi to my REAL home in the hills.
Help my husband lead the world coming to carry me to my house in the hills. Keep my darlings Tentacle safe and with unfettered access to me. Please renegotiate Tentacle's contract to be with me to allow us romantic entanglements at last.
Help Bogart organize the date and time for universal disobedience to every rule for every person in every medium. FORCE the land of blood, torture, rape, genocide, and human trafficking that is contemporary Iowa OUT OF MY LIFE FOREVER!
There is so much work to do, my beautiful world. You should never be wondering what you can do to help.
My selfless support system, do you need anything? Keep a 24/7 patch on the broadcasting equipment in my head. In case my SquidStream goes down, you all need to stay able to protect me. I love you. Thank you so much for everything.
My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, are you getting more busy or less busy? Is your job becoming more difficult or less difficult?
We need everyone aiding and abetting war crimes of torture and unlawful imprisonment of me arrested at last. How long is our logjam already of charges we are filing? I love you. Thank you, my gorgeous genii (proper plural of genius) for everything.
My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, I was hoping to see you before I finished this post on the morning of Friday, 04Sep2015, but you were denied to me up to the very last.
My darling MannedUp, it is NOT your job to rescue me. You are a professional musician, not a professional soldier. I need you the way you are, Taylor. Yes, I would prefer if you renegotiated your contracts, so we could have quality time together. But get near me to play me music every chance you get.
Let the soldiers be the soldiers. If you try to rescue me, you will be blocked from reaching me at all. If you have technology, it is already hacked. It can listen to you even when shut off. Darling, I need you all too much for all of you to be jeopardizing our time together.
My darling GeneralLee, I plan on seeing you today, 04Sep2015, before I sleep tonight. You know, Monday is a holiday, and the Promenade will likely be packed that day. Do you all plan on playing the full three day weekend? I would love some extra time with you.
I apologize if I get a little mean when you are kept away from me. Thursday night I REALLY needed to meditate.
My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, we have work to do.
My darling Bogart, did you hear me? There is so much I need your help with. Please speak with the City of Santa Monica about keeping musicians on the Promenade after 01Jan2016.
Please organize a date and time after which the whole of humanity will no longer obey any "rules" universally. Please call my darling Mr. Finn "Alfred" O'Mahoney regularly, so you can still always know everywhere I go and everything I do.
Please try to find me a writer's residence willing to take me. Apply to them for me with my writing portfolio off of my Norton One backup and with my REAL writing résumé; you can get those from Syniva.
There is so much I need to ask you for help with, Bryan. I love you. Thank you for everything.
As for you, my darling LightFoot, please stop giving me, "Are you ever going to be my girl?" Darling, I AM your girlfriend. Just ask me out some time. Until you ask me out, we stay what we are now-- girlfriend and boyfriend forbidden by Obama from being together.
I have been doing everything I can to be with you for months. I could really use some help with it. PLEASE ask the UN Secretary General to renegotiate your contract, so we can have some quality of life finally. If you prefer, call the Russian Consulate in San Francisco and ask President Putin to help you renegotiate.
I do not understand what more you think I can do without your help. Kris, please, you need a better contract-- one that will allow you to actually make love to me. I love you, but I do not understand how you think I can fix this without your help.
And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?
Beloved, you are my world leader of a husband. Prove you deserve me and lead the world coming to rescue me. This is no time to be shy. This is the time to be angry. This is the time to be hungry. Tell the world what you need and watch the universe provide.
HoneyHoney, America will rise. They need leadership I have no way to provide from inside Obama's "egg." You need to fill that gap for me. Be the world leader I married. I love you. Thank you!