Title: The CIA
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. My darlings at the CIA are recruiting the best of the best. They have an amazing paid internship program for college students. They have also lost a lot of agents since 2012. Does anyone want to be my hidden bodyguard?
In the field around the world. The CIA went rogue in 2012 to follow my husband on his charge into Iowa to rescue me from Obama's "egg." They are the greatest heroes I have.
They are in here, my beautiful world. They fight every day to rescue me. I can feel their loving eyes.
I remember how I snuck the CIA into Des Moines by telling them to walk the decommissioned railroad tracks. I remember everything that led up to MI6 and the KGB coming to join them.
I am so much safer in Los Angeles than I ever was in Des Moines, and their saturation of my surroundings is no small part of this. The international intelligence community has lost so many operatives fighting to rescue me from Obama. Please show them some love and support.
My last blog post was finished at 8:10am on Thursday, 05Nov2015 from the Pico Branch Library. My internet gnomes played me the poem Underwear by my darling Mr. Lawrence Ferlinghetti just before I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.
I worked online there at the library until 10:33am when I took care of some odds and ends. By 10:54am, I was on the bus to run some errands. Errands done, at 11:34am, I sat down at my local Steak'N'Shake for lunch.
By 12:26pm, I was at the Santa Monica Main Public Library. My old buddy Michael found me in the courtyard at 1pm exactly.
We had a delightful conversation. Feel free to circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of our delightful chat. Start at 1pm exactly and end at 2:13pm.
I sat upstairs and watched The Late Show from the previous evening online after that. I was back on the 3rd Street Promenade by the time the second and third torture facility alarms vigilantly blared by.
3:49pm on 05Nov2015: #TortureFacilityAlarm! If I lose any more human rights, expect direct international action. #SquidsPoA @BBCNews @cctvnews @RT_com
At 4:32pm, I stepped inside my local Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf for a tasty caffeinated beverage. By 4:37pm, I was back outside sitting next to my darling Ms. Kaila Shaw as she strummed and sang. Patricia joined me as the sun was setting.
By 6:29pm, I was back at the Main Library. As he had promised, my old buddy Michael joined me in the courtyard at 6:45pm, so we could have a short chat before watching the news at 7:15pm.
Yes, we streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:15pm. My evening cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt, and it was wonderful.
I stopped for dinner to-go from the Shophouse before doing a little window shopping. I had promised to look around for TambourineKicker after 8pm, but I could not find him anywhere.
I ended up taking the 9:20pm bus back to my place. I was curled up in bed asleep by 11:30pm. I woke up early on Friday, 06Nov2015, and I was at my regular morning haunt at 7:53am.
It was Dream Baby Dream by my darling Mr. Bruce Springsteen that my internet gnomes played for me first. I sent my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies at 8:02am.
I read national and world headlines and caught up with my Tweethearts leaving my local Subway at 10:04am. I perched quickly outside the Pico Branch Library to work online.
Lunch at noon and dinner at 5pm were both tasty yet uneventful. I had napped in between. By 5:23pm, I was on a bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.
I found the location where my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot were waiting with their equipment at 5:34pm. They were waiting for 8pm, so I walked around with Patricia for a while.
I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:15pm. My evening cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt, and it glowed with love. Sometimes I just need to know the world can still hear me.
My present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle started playing at 8:31pm. I warmed up as fast as I could. The night was beautiful. They played until 9:35pm before they packed up for the night.
It was quality meditation; I had no complaints, but my darlings seemed bothered by something.
At 9:54pm, they wheeled back into the night sky where we all really belong. I caught the 10pm bus back to my place. I curled up in bed with some music before finishing this blog post.
This blog post was finished at 12:30am on Saturday, 07Nov2015, from my bedroom.
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 really work for the CIA? Only as of July2015. They offered me a job, and I accepted it. For years they had told me, "Just tell everyone you work for us." As of July this year, it has been official.
Why do spies fall so in love with me? They know the truth about me. Good people who know the real me all love me. I must admit I have a huge soft spot for spies, too. Field operatives are my bad boy type.
My beautiful world, we need our soldiers to be soldiers and our spies to be spies. Instead of rogue field operatives fighting our war to rescue us all from Obama's "egg," we need our soldiers given orders to take down Obama's mercenary terrorist army instead.
My selfless support system, the world knows you are the best field operatives on the planet. I do my best to make sure none of you are identified. Tao sacrificed himself to my broadcast, and I have not seen Nate since Valentines Day.
I look forward to the days when I do not have broadcasting equipment in my head, and we may sneak away to have genius conversations. I would like to become someone you can always come to for help in the future.
My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, the CIA keeps trying to recruit women like me to fill their ranks. The closest thing my beautiful world has to another me is all of you. Sadly, you are all too famous to become spies, but if you know anyone...
My musician-lovers MannedUp, GeneralLee, and Bogart, kisses, darlings.
My darling MannedUp, last night was beautiful. My best window for meditation is 7pm to 10pm. You played right on the sweet spot, the 8pm to 10pm time slot. Thank you, darling. You both seemed a little upset all night. Is there something I should know?
My darling GeneralLee, sigh... I hate when I do not get to see you. With any luck, I will see you this weekend, right? I will be the woman in the dress who dances better than everyone else. Giggle.
My darling Bogart, it is because I have no way to see you. Darling, I am moving you from "royal consort" to "musician-lover" because I have no way to see you. Beloved, you are still very Important to me; I just need to be honest to my own heart.
Obama stole you from me; I have no way to see you; I need a chance to heal that wound. I am not letting you go. I still love you and need you. I just need to be honest to myself. Darling, I have no way to see you.
My Royal Consort LightFoot whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, you are just not bad enough to be my bad boy type. You are my sweetheart type.
My darling LightFoot, you are now my only boyfriend. I guess you got a promotion. Is there anything sexier than dating a CIA operative? Giggle. Dating a rock star might be sexier. Tomorrow night 08Nov is Sunday night date night. Let us actually get some date night dancing in this week, okay? Kisses!
And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?
HoneyHoney, did the CIA help you procure untraceable technology yet, so you can lead my rescue? That should help.
Oh, my beloved, can you see us in the master bedroom? My wings spread across our California king bed. My bare back against the bedspread. Your mouth just a breath away from mine whispering how much you love me. My hands on your bare stomach as my back arches inviting acts we have waited six and a half years for already.
I hate being away from you. My hero and my king, YOU ARE MY HUSBAND! How does anyone justify keeping us apart?!?
HoneyHoney, you are the second most powerful world leader in my family. Please make sure my darling President Vladimir Putin is in conversation with my darling Prime Minister David Cameron.
They have a little rivalry over who is my bigger hero, but they really need to be working together right now. There is no one I can trust with delicate diplomacy but you. Syniva is far too busy.
I love you.