Board & Care

Title: Board & Care

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. 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. I live in a board & care adult residential facility. I have a compromise with the management. I take 5mg of haldol twice a day to maintain their facade I have a mental illness, so I can have permission to live there.

The Manor Adult Residential Facility in Santa Monica, California and the Yarlswood Immigration Detention Center in the UK are the only places I have lived since Obama's "egg" ruined my normal life where I have ever had physical safety in my sleep. I was drugged and sexually and physically abused in my sleep everywhere else.

I was safer homeless sleeping in the Pacific Palisades in Santa Monica every day than I ever was in that slave-and-rape apartment or even in my old high school bedroom controlled by my evil father both in ABSOLUTELY EVIL Iowa.

My board & care costs $1200 a month for a shared bedroom, but it covers everything: three meals a day & and occasional snacks, maid & maintenance service, onsite medical & psychiatric care, laundry & laundry detergent, shampoo & toiletries. And everyone there from the staff to the residents are wonderful.

I miss being able to have my own kitchen, but the physical safety is worth it. The accommodations are nowhere near the luxury yacht my husband wants to sail the world in with me. But the people are so supportive.

USA. We have a violent culture in America. Is it possible to make a blockbuster film without shooting someone? We need our children raised taught that violence is only a last resort. Tell the liberal media to put they oeuvre where their mouth is.

Look at this damned "egg." Obama enforces it at the point of a gun as his first line defense. I tried so hard to save my own people with uniform peaceful civil disobedience to all of Obama's crimes against America he intentionally mislabeled "rules," but nothing changed in here.

To be completely honest, I credit that to how terrorized everyone is by Obama's Gestapo and iron fist of PROVEN terrorism that he uses to keep everyone's inalienable Constitutional rights away, but the "egg" would have ended by now if everyone had listened to me.

My last blog post was finished at 12:30am on 01Feb2016 from my bedroom. I was up just about 6:57am, and the first vigilant torture facility alarm of the day blared at 7:14am. I did not even have my boots on yet.

I had a nice little chat with Josh during breakfast and was outside the Pico Branch Library by 8:53am. My internet gnomes played me As Cool As I Am by my darling Ms. Dar Williams after I put my makeup on and before I took my daily I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

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I worked online outside the library until 11:06am. I had some girl talk with Ms. Eddy during lunch at noon before curling up for my siesta. I was awakened when my mom called me through FaceTime at 4:07pm.

I was early to dinner at 5pm and was on the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade as fast as I could get there.

I met and chatted with a man named Andre who works at the Monsieur Marcel just before I spritzed myself with my favorite perfume in my local Sephora.

At 6:09pm, I found Faye and Patricia chatting with a photographer named Dave right where Kaila had stopped singing.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News at 7:05pm. My evening cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt, and it put the chill in my bones.

The wind was cold; even though, the sky was mostly clear. There were so few people around that I left on the 7:33pm bus back to my place. I was soon snacking on cookies as I worked online from my bedroom.

I slept very well that night and was awake in time for breakfast on Tuesday, 02Feb2016, Groundhog's Day. After eating, Sonny gave me a tour of the Manor's bachelor annex. I was outside the Pico Branch Library sipping coffee in no time.

My internet gnomes played me Mother by my darlings Pink Floyd as I brushed my hair and put on my makeup. I tweeted my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies at 9:12am.

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Outside the library soaking up sunlight, I sang along with my internet gnomes as I caught up with my TweetHearts. As always, Squid, Inc. can do what it wants with recordings of my voice. At 11:37am, I walked back to my place.

Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. We had hamburgers. I was inside the Pico Branch Library by 12:17pm catching up on some television online. I watched the previous night's Late Show, Late Late Show, Daily Show, and Nightly Show. I watched my darling LoveDrummer on The Muppets. I also caught a few episodes of Modern Family.

Dinner at 5pm was tasty yet uneventful. I was on a bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade by 5:23pm. I found Patricia right after I spritzed myself with perfume at my local Sephora.

We walked around the Promenade while chatting until I perched beside the best Starbucks in the world, the one inside the Santa Monica Place, to watch the news.

Yes, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:15pm PST. My evening cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt, and it was a testament to a job well done.

It was Tuesday night, but the money I count on was delayed. As a result, I had no way to see my darlings Tentacle at Harvelle's. I pray they took total advantage of their unbridled freedom of speech in my absence.

By 7:52pm, I was on the bus back to my place. After a few cookies, I played a silly computer game for a few minutes before curling up and going to sleep.

I slept very well and woke up on Wednesday, 03Feb2016, in time for breakfast. This blog post was finished at 9:30am on 03Feb2016 from outside the Pico Branch Library in Santa Monica, CA.

[Please embed a highlights reel of my last two days here.]

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 the hell am I so high-functioning with all the horrors I am living through? I meditate. Try it sometime.

How many languages do I speak? I was not raised speaking my mother's language. My best language is English. I studied Spanish from 8th grade to the end of high school, and it is very rusty.

While living in San Francisco I took a course in German at the Goethe Institut; about all I learned was the accent.

I studied Czech language and literature during my study abroad to Prague in 1998, but I have so little vocabulary left.

I can say naughty words in Arabic. I can order food in Italian; I have a strong command of vegetables. All of my self-taught Latin is pretty much gone. I think that is everything.

With all of my talents, why did I choose to be a writer instead of a singer or dancer or lawyer or comedian or spy? I spent high school told I was a weak singer by my choir director Mr. Carstenson.

I have tragic ballet injury in my right knee from when I mislanded a tour jeté on a hard wood floor at sixteen years old and a tragic knee injury in my left knee from a hula rehearsal gone wrong.

I never went to law school.

I would have loved to have been a comedy writer. If I make something up be it the Jewish high holy day when they take the shikses to the temple or my voodoo witch doctor creation myth, it is to be funny. I could never do standup; I have debilitating stage fright.

And my larger-than-life personality is way too conspicuous for espionage; nobody ever forgets me after meeting me. Did you ever see Sigourney Weaver night? Could I have been more conspicuous?

Why am I European royalty? My mother's maiden name is Albon. She and her siblings are Spanish royalty on their paternal side.

They also trace their mother's heritage, my Mama Ling, straight to Portuguese royalty that had the position of missionaries in the Philippines a long time ago.

When Spain fell in love with No Dress Rehearsal and Octopus which I am still forbidden from knowing ever existed, they made me a Spanish princess.

Why am I always penniless broke? Obama forbids me any income. Please ask every one from my darling [First Name Redacted] "Wizz" Wentworth in San Francisco to my darling Mr. Elon Musk what happens to people who try to give me a paying job.

The income I had as a starving, aspiring fiction writer before Obama's "egg" was stolen from me after Obama destroyed my normal life with his "rules." It was disability insurance payments.

Obama put me on social security disability in 2010, so he could intentionally falsely call me a schizophrenic. But he has never once allowed me to receive a payment from it.

All of the money has always gone to a payee appointed to me by ABSOLUTELY EVIL Iowa after I had sought political asylum away from such abuses in the UK.

And, no, I was never under Iowa's jurisdiction. I am also not under Iowa's jurisdiction now.

Obama just wanted me returned to a place evil enough to abuse me for him. What makes Iowa so evil is the people there, the public. All of the systemic crimes and abuses against me mandated by Obama's "egg" follow me everywhere I go, even overseas.

Obama permits me absolutely no income. I live off of gift cards from my mother that add up to less than $10 a day every other week.

What is it like taking haldol? It is horrible. Never do it. It causes weight gain, slows down my normally highly functioning mind, incites physical lethargy, forces Parkinsonian tremors, and inhibits my full dance trance connection.

What is my opinion of the quality of health care and services the mentally ill receive in America? No one cares about the mentally ill. The Manor is the first place I have seen where the mentally ill are treated with any dignity and respect. Have you ever seen the oubliette torture facilities that are psych wards?

Everybody who lives in the board & care with me hates it. They fight with the staff, complain about the food, and hate the poverty-stricken conditions. However, compared to most other board & care facilities, it is luxurious.

Big pharma treats the mentally ill like money machines. Everybody forces the mentally ill to take heavily damaging medications, and there are no psychiatric drugs the do not have horrifying side effects. They are a captive market who are forced to pay whatever big pharma feels like charging.

Does mental illness cause gun violence? Never. Look at the facts. How many sane people kill people? How many mentally ill do not? Mass shootings of innocents are committed by bad people independent of whether or not they are crazy. But the mentally ill always get the press.

I have met so many wonderful mentally ill people at all different levels of functioning since 2009. (And, yes, the first time I was ever in a mental health facility was AFTER Obama's "egg" began. Mental health commitments ruined what used to be my normal life.) Not one of the friends I made is capable of killing someone.

Did I ever take a comprehensive psychiatric exam? You are going to love the verified and unedited recording. Watch me take the standardized test as well as picture interpretation test.

They disqualified the standardized test result because it had the accurate result of "abusive parent," and intentionally misdiagnosed me as a schizophrenic with their only justification being a "grandiosity" in my interpretation of the images.

My beautiful world, why does ABSOLUTELY EVIL Iowa still refuse to take Step 1: Cease all crimes against me and against my people? The British took all three never-fail steps to absolution, and no one says a bad word about them now.

The British prefer being my heroes. I also forgave Cuddlebunny, my mother, my little sister, Mexico, and Bogart. Have you seen how much I fight for them all now?

My brave rescuers, you are all a lot of strange bedfellows. Please try to work together instead of competing with each other to save me. For a while there, you were the first chapter of the Iliad.

I know my Menelaus needs an Agamemnon; I would love for it to be my darling Commander in Chief Martin Dempsey. But what you all really need is an Odysseus to think up your Trojan Horse.

Troy must have loved Helen. Look at how hard they fought to keep her with them.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, you are all so damn busy. Do you need anything? That is my role on our team. Right now you are everyone's hero, especially mine. Has the world met all of you yet?

Please publish here your full CVs, favorite glamor selfies, a description of what you do on our team, the story of how we met and how long we have been friends, and what you want to do with your genius lives after Obama's "egg" ends.

My musician-lovers MannedUp, GeneralLee, and Bogart, have you ever used the warning, "Don't make Squid write a tweet," yet?

My darling Mr. Taylor "MannedUp" Hanson, I am so sorry I could not make it last night. My pennies I live on were delayed. Next week I promise I will stay all night.

I have been planning on staying for the jam session at Harvelle's on Tuesday night for a long time. It keeps me out after the last bus back to my place, so I do not get to stay late very often. You know I spend every minute with you I can.

My darling Mr. Brien "GeneralLee" Dennehy, do you ever watch me hanging out on the Promenade with my darling Mr. Art "TambourineKicker" Garfunkel? Would that not be awesome? I would love to just hang out and make a little music some time. After this damned "egg" ends, we will have all the rest of our lives for second harmonies and Broadway belting.

My darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno, please speak with my darling Senator Diane Feinstein about what we can do to convince Attorney General Loretta Lynch to competently prosecute all of the enemies of America enforcing Obama's "rules."

I am not sure if I can make it to the Pig & Whistle tonight. My mail from my mother is supposed to arrive today, but the tracking on it makes me think it is delayed even later. I was to read a little poetry. I will send you a tweet when I know for sure.

My Royal Consort LightFoot whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, play me music in the rain. I know it is a little dangerous, but dude, you are a rock star. Would you rather die of electrocution or vomit? Giggle.

My darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic, I noticed you do not get jealous and territorial of me around MannedUp and GeneralLee anymore. I like that. It means you feel secure enough in our relationship that my musician-lovers do not make you feel threatened anymore. Thank you for trusting me. It means so much.

And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

My darling the Mr. Johnny "Love-of-my-Life" Depp, I will write the next installment of The Adventures of Honey and Beloved for your birthday. What did you do with the gift I gave you for Christmas 2012? I have never seen you wear it.

We also have a little housekeeping. I never donate money to political campaigns as a moral choice to help protect the democratic process. But, my darling Senator Marco Rubio has a $6M budget at a time when even my darling Governor Jeb Bush spent $30M alone in attack ads against him.

We all know Marco was demonized for being one of my heroes. That happens to all of you. Please work with him to find a way to level the playing field for him in the Republican primary much like I did for my darling Secretary Clinton in my last post. If he just needs a superPAC so he can fight like an equal, please take care of it.

Beloved, does the world know we keep joint finances and pay joint taxes? You are my equal in our marriage. Of course, I have to check with you first.

Sweetness, kiss Jack and Lily Rose for me. If I never get a chance to have children, at least I will know I helped raise those two darlings right.

My hero and my king, the whole world knows I have not been sexually active since July2013 when I slept with my darling Mr. Jared [No SquidName] Clark to make your mistress my darling Ms. Amber Herd acceptable to the world. If I ever had sex, the whole world would be able to listen to it. Do you remember my darling Cuddlebunny in 2009?

HoneyHoney, I am completely incapable of ever being angry with you. The closest I ever got was demanding you buy all new mattresses; I refuse to sleep in a bed you have been with another woman in. The only thing I will ever forbid you from is dying before I do. You are my husband. Thank you for being able to love an Alpha Female.