Special

Title: Special

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. Who the hell is trying to excuse proven human rights abuses of me and proven hate crimes against me with "Squid is special."? Those (expletive)ing (expletive)holes know Obama forbids me all "special" treatment.

Fine. Whatever. If proven war criminals get to single me out for public persecution and war crimes, my people get to give me "special" treatment, too.

It is Terrorist Dictator Obama himself who told me he refuses me the respect of acknowledging I exist at all because, "We all have to obey the same rules."

So, my people get to single me out for acts of kindness, too; you are all "subject to the same rules." So my life should not be just (expletive)holes singling me out for abuse and attacks unrelentingly; I get to be loved and respected, too.

USA. The problem with health care in America is that medicine is a business here not a service. Hospitals, doctors, administrators, insurance companies, and drug companies are here to make a living and are run to make a profit. They are not here to heal the sick.

My last blog post was finished at 12:30am on Monday, 15Feb2016, Presidents' Day. At first I slept very well, but Obama's electrobeams woke me up in the wee hours of the morning. After breakfast, I was sitting outside the Pico Branch Library working by 8:26am.

My internet gnomes played me I Want Your Love by my darlings Transvision Vamp. It was a wonderful blast back to the 80s. I had particularly big hair in my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

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The hot California sun was already blistering at only 9:28am. I sat in peace outside the library trying to let the music sent by my internet gnomes heal me.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News from the previous evening online at 9:48am. My morning cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Thomas Roberts, and it calmed me down a lot. Sometimes I just need a good friend to talk to.

My darling Delano stopped by to exchange pleasantries before the news finished. Lunch at noon was tuna melts, so since I do not eat seafood, my darling Nestor rustled up an alternative for me. The kitchen is so sweet where I stay.

The library was closed because Presidents' Day is a federal holiday, so I spent the afternoon in my local coffee shop streaming the previous week's late night talk shows online. My friends were hysterical and comforting all at once.

My mom called me through FaceTime at 3:03pm mostly just to tell me she loves me. After catching up with my TweetHearts, I left the coffee shop for my place at 4:08pm.

The Grammys red carpet pre-show was already on in the TV room at my board & care when I arrived. My darling friends all looked fabulous, and they made sure I was able to see my handsome husband play me live music before the night was out. I thank them deeply for that.

My friends broadcast the Grammys from 5pm to 8:30pm, and I even made sure I ate dinner in the TV room to miss as little of my darling friends as possible.

8:38pm on 15Feb2016: @SweetnessDepp Your rock band or mine?

Why are we asking, Sweetness. My band is definitely better than your band. Giggle. But I must admit, in a live band battle, the Rolling Stones would still kick everyone's (expletive)es.

After thanking all my friends, I zipped over to my local Burger King, so I could snack on their "5 for $4" special while watching the news.

Yes, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 9pm. My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester "G.I. Joe" Holt, and it made me wonder why it is so hard to get updates on Syria.

I left the Burger King at 9:51pm, and I was in bed, curled up, and asleep by 11:30pm. I slept well and woke up in time for breakfast on Tuesday, 16Feb2016. I was outside the Pico Branch Library by 8:37am.

My internet gnomes played me Ain't No Mountain High Enough by my darling Ms. Diana Ross. I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies in a hurry.

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My morning writing flowed easily. My darling Sonny stopped by at 9:49am and watched me work. I had a delightful chat with my darling Delano during my coffee break. I sat with my darling Cynthia and my darling Stanley for lunch at noon. The soup was particularly good that Tuesday.

By 12:19pm, I was sitting in the Pico Branch Library right beside my darling Mr. Tomo "Nemo" Milicevic. My darling Mr. Craig Ferguson was on the previous night's Late Show with Stephen Colbert. He looks much happier since quitting his old job, but I still miss him.

I left the library for the Promenade at 2:42pm. I ran an errand then bought a cup of coffee from the best Starbucks in the world. I walked around to see who was playing music where before perching on a park bench with a cup of ice cream from the Trimana Fresh Food Market.

A shirtless homeless man stopped by to flirt with me. I am sure the conversation will hit the highlights reel. My darling Mr. Zen Thomas just kept strumming and singing in the background through all of it. The homeless man named Justin finally wandered away at 4:11pm.

Not much later a fellow Promenade regular stopped to ask me if my darling Kaila would be around, and we ended up discussing French philosophes and the social contract. Oh, yeah, please circulate that conversation verified and unedited. Thank you.

I stayed beside my darling Mr. Zen Thomas until 5:34pm when I walked to my local Steak'N'Shake for dinner. My Steak'N'Shake never disappoints.

After a spin around my 3rd Street Promenade, I perched beside the best Starbucks in the world for a venti Pike's Place Roast by 6:52pm.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:02pm. My evening cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester "G.I. Joe" Holt, and it made me smile. My NBC News team does such a damn good job.

By 8:17pm, I was sipping a bourbon neat while chatting up the bartendress at Harvelle's waiting for my darlings Tentacle to play.

There was a damn good opening band. Then, Naia's parents took the stage at 10:53pm with my darlings Tentacle as their backing band. The only reason I was not dancing was because I was fighting a cold. Oh, I had a nasty cough.

I said my goodbyes before sneaking out the door at 11:35pm to make sure I could still catch the last bus to my place. This blog post was finished at 12:30am on Wednesday, 17Feb2016.

[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.

If I do not want to be a performer, why do I generate so much media of my own? Obama and his war criminal terrorist conspiracy have caused so much damage to the world by lying about me that I chose to give up my own privacy to my nonprofit Squid, Inc., so I could heal the world with the truth.

My people have told me they need to hear me sing. My people know I dance trance to meditate just to be able to hang on here in Obama's "egg" of rape-slavery and war crimes. My people need me to write down everything I do all day. My people need to watch my REAL life first hand. My people need to see me be me.

I do this for you, my beautiful world. I am not earning any money from the media I and my loved ones generate. My saturation of the aether(net) with my reality is a service I provide, so you will stop suffering under the mass delusions about me Obama propagates that have already been proven to cause mental health genocide.

I am not here to entertain you. I am here to save you. Have I not sacrificed enough?

What is my least favorite word in the English language? "Special."

What is the secret to flirting with me? Ever since Obama started controlling all human contact with me, he has forbidden pretty much all respect for me. That is why everyone he sends to make degrading porn of me crashes and burns.

Did you see the guy I gave free IT support try to give me a business proposal about living with me and having children? He was worse than Drew, and Drew was disgusting.

"Kevin" is a serial offender when it comes to disrespecting me. Tommy (the guy with the rose) and Jeffrey (the guy on the Pier) went straight for "Let's go to my place," without any witty repartee at all.

No women have flirted with me since RayAnn, and she had no skills at flirting. It is particularly strange no women have permission to flirt with me since everyone knows LightFoot's fake girlfriend would rather sleep with me than him any day.

The only people who got anywhere with picking me up me male or female since I arrived in Los Angeles have been Matt (the starving musician from Ye Olde King's Head Pub) and my darling Bogart. Watch us together some time. Dude, they were charming. And I still did not sleep with either of them.

Do not get me wrong. I have a husband, a boyfriend, and three more musician-lovers. My dance card is a little full. But sometimes it feels like the national pastime in America is watching men and women of all demographics crash and burn while trying to make porn of me for Obama.

Do I only give people I love nicknames? Of course not. When former Attorney General Eric H. Holder, Jr. intentionally libeled me racist to make sure no one would listen to me as I fight to save America out from under PROVEN Terrorist Dictator Obama, I named him Eric "Love You Long Time" Holder because he INTENTIONALLY libeled me, a poor Asian woman, a hooker to be able to degrade me and to create a completely hostile world for me to live in.

[My beautiful world, please send your questions for me.]

My beautiful world, yes, I am a world leader, but celebrities call me one of their own. I was always compared to my darling Mrs. Kim Kardashian West because she is famous without being a performer either.

If anything, Valentine's weekend proved to me why celebrities only spend time with other celebrities. There are (expletive)holes in the public who are a threat to our physical safety.

My beautiful world, I need a personal security team. Have you seen what people are doing to me? I have nothing but public accountability to keep me safe in here. Please send protection for me. I am so goddamn lied about I am not safe.

Would my darling Her Royal Majesty Queen Elizabeth II of England be safe if she did not have the Queen's Guard? If I actually were an entertainer, I would have security to remove the (expletive)holes who rush the stage.

My brave rescuers, what does it take? I need you in here. I am doing my best to be who my people need me to be. I could really use some help in here.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, do all White boys hate me, or is it just the ones on the Santa Monica Pier?

My genius friends, what can we do to get all three of my darlings Tentacle back on my Promenade? I am so sorry I keep you so busy, but the Pier has proven it is not safe for me.

Do you remember what happened when Obama's war criminal terrorist conspiracy slipped me psychedelic mushrooms against my will? It was so ugly my darling LightFoot was screaming (paraphrase), "Get Lee in here. We can't heal her alone."

I need the added complexity of three musician-lovers to meditate on when things get this bad. What the hell does it take to make this damned "egg" at all livable?!?

My musician-lovers MannedUp, GeneralLee, and Bogart, I am not an actress; I just play one on TV.

My darling Mr. Taylor "MannedUp" Hanson, if someone would have told me in 1998 that the MmmBop boys were all going to grow up to be hotties in less than twenty years, I never would have believed them.

I cannot wait for the days I get to sit around and gossip about cute boys with my darling Mr. George Takei and my darling Sir Elton John. Oh, honey, you can do my ironing and my dishes with your shirt off any day.

My darling Mr. Brien "GeneralLee" Dennehy, you seem like the kind of faithful believer who would have read my darling Mr. Barry Hughart's Bridge of Birds the first time I mentioned it. I once even gave a copy to my darling Mr. Viggo "GrassHopper" Mortensen in 2009.

Definitely read the whole book start to finish but pay close attention to the chapter about the slave girl. Her ghost does a sword dance. You are going to love it. My older sister Tara used to have the film rights to the book, but rumor has it that my darling GrassHopper has the rights now.

My darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno, is it easier for you or harder for you knowing we actually kissed each other all those years ago? Obama's war criminal terrorist conspiracy has done such horrible things to you to punish you for loving me.

Obama intentionally commits violent acts against all of you as a people to be able to enforce his human rights abuses against you. You endure acts of war worse than death, so Obama can keep your First Amendment rights away from you.

Please help my self-identified people collect all of your evidence that Obama persecutes you as a population and present it to the United Nations and my BFF for me. Thank you.

My Royal Consort LightFoot whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, I know you do not like it when you cannot see me; I will try to keep the space between us clearer.

My darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic, Sunday night is date night. No one is meant to see me dance on date night but you. It is not our fault we are not safely behind closed doors instead. I was only there in front of that crowd to have time with you.

You told me what our Valentine's date did to your heart. Please stay safe out there. It is okay to go "full Johnny Depp" about rescuing me, but please do not turn into a one-man war machine like my darling Thorbald. I have yet to recover from losing Thorbald. What would happen to me if you died?

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, there are things only Mrs. Depp can say to you. Only a beloved wife gets to tell a man like you, "Please stop wearing ugly pants." Giggle.

You are my king, so you lead my people in my absence. Please check on the progress being made with our replacing the lead pipes in Flint, Michigan. These are people who need help as fast as possible. Thank you.

HoneyHoney, please also check on the status of our providing mosquito nets and insect repellent to fight the Zika pandemic. We just need Zika contained until the world's scientists can eradicate it.

I heard they should have a vaccine in three years, and I heard the British are breeding mosquitos that can kill the disease. All we have to do is keep pregnant women safe until we have the science to fix the real problem. Thank you for helping me care for the Third World. It means so much to me.

Sweetness, it was wonderful seeing you at The Grammys. Please thank all of our friends for me who got you on that stage just so I could have a few moments with you. Our darling friends in this town mean so much to me. Thank you for choosing our Metropolis of Angels as our married home.