Wednesday, March 2, 2016

U.S. Department of (In)Justice

Title: U.S. Department of (In)Justice

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. Why is no one being competently prosecuted for any of the crimes unrelentingly committed against me since Obama took office in 2009?

If the U.S. Department of Justice continues to refuse to enforce ACTUAL laws in America as opposed to the PROVEN crimes against America that constitute Obama's "egg," we need them culled for crimes against their own people.

This goes well beyond felonious neglect. They are aiding and abetting the most heinous crimes known to mankind including but not limited to PROVEN genocide, PROVEN human trafficking, PROVEN persecution of me and my people (a minority population in America), PROVEN torture including systemic rape, and PROVEN violations of the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution ALL as acts of war against America.

If we have any way to start a criminal investigation into the DoJ by Congress, I recommend it. If my darling Representative Darrel Issa were still running the House Judiciary Committee, this would have been taken care of years ago.

And, my darlings at the United Nations, please force the entire U.S. Department of Justice to answer to the International Criminal Court for crimes against their own people. And thank you.

Iraq. It looks like we have boots on the ground in Iraq. My darling Secretary of Defense Ashton Carter, please tell me if you need anything. The first Gulf War was America's last successful war mission. Let us try to do this right this time.

My last blog post was finished at 12:30am on Monday, 29Feb2016, Leap Day. I slept very well and woke up just after breakfast. The day was young, and I had a bag of cookies in my purse.

Outside the Pico Branch Library by 9:43am, my internet gnomes quickly played me Glory of Love by my darling Mr. Peter Cetera. My morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies were pretty good that Monday.

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The weather was cool when I left my place, so I wore my jacket. But the sun warmed the sky by 10:43am while I was still working online outside of the library. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day.

Lunch at noon was tacos and split pea soup. I was inside the Pico Branch Library catching up on the previous week's late night talk shows by 12:19pm. My darling talk show hosts were hysterical.

My mom called me through FaceTime at 2:35pm, but our connection was so weak we could barely say a word to each other. I was not even speaking to her just waiting for the connection to fix itself, but some (expletive)hole next to me told me to go outside.

So, when I was done watching my friends' shows online, I put my darlings Emperor on shuffle mode and blasted them into my headphones.

If a (expletive)ing (expletive)er is going to disrespect me to my face, I am going to punish him for committing the crime against me of having an earspeaker. I hate those (expletive)ing earspeakers.

That (expletive)hole finally fled the library at 3:14pm, so I turned down the volume on my music playing into my earmic. My darling Nemo walked in and sat down next to me at 3:24pm. I had not seen him in at least a week, and as always, he brought a smile to my face.

After catching up with my TweetHearts and updating my blog notes, I left to do my laundry. Sadly, we were out of laundry detergent. So, I just waited until dinner.

Dinner at 5pm was tasty. I was on the bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade as fast as I could get there. I found my darling Kaila and my darling Patricia chatting on the sidewalk at 5:43pm.

Patricia and I went for coffee, and Kaila ran to the music store to replace the strings she broke. The three of us hung out chatting until I left to watch the news.

Yes, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7pm. My evening cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester "G.I. Joe" Holt, and I had to apologize to him by the end of the broadcast for yelling.

Some absolute (expletive)hole was trying to lock me in a literal torture facility paraded as a psych ward AGAIN (We have years of evidence proving they commit those heinous abuses of me regularly.) because they claimed I had "anxiety" about being locked in literal torture facilities regularly.

Basically, they threatened me with unlawful imprisonment, LITERAL torture, and systemic rape AGAIN thereby PROVING MY POINT that they unrelentingly try to lock me in literal torture facilities to unlawfully imprison me, literally torture me, and systemically rape me.

I am not joking. They really said my RATIONAL fear of their literally torturing me AGAIN was grounds for them to LITERALLY torture me AGAIN. Who the hell is still allowing Obama's proven war criminals in ANY courtroom as anything but defendants at this point?!?

My beautiful world, I demand a full investigation into EVERY court that ever allows any more PROVEN liars to attempt to coverup any more war crimes against me with their ALWAYS false claims I am at all mentally imperfect in their courtroom EVER AGAIN. There is no excuse for ANYONE humoring Obama's crapfest any longer. Who the (expletive) is still allowing this crap to go on?!?

Prosecute EVERYONE who allows this bull(expletive) to continue. And also arrest everyone refusing to arrest the (expletive)holes who unrelentingly attempt every lie they can think of to unlawfully imprison, torture, rape, control, and human traffic me. How much damn evidence does it take?!?

I am done with Obama's human rights abuses of me and my people always covered up with unrelenting lies about me. Goddamn do something and (expletive)ing make it stop already!

I was back on my Promenade next to my darling Kaila and my darling Patricia by 7:57pm. Patricia left us at 8:24pm while Kaila was still playing music.

I had a short chat with my darling Handsome when I made a trip to the Trimana Fresh Food Market for snacks. He does not mind that I am always stopping in there to make sure he is okay. I am such a protective Mama Bear.

After Kaila and I snacked on our chocolate bars, she played until 9:38pm. "Kevin" walked up to us while Kaila was packing up her gear. He had some homeless man named Tyler with him.

Kevin and Tyler took me to Yogurtland after Kaila and her mom Faye walked to their car. Tyler almost forgot his pet puppy in the yogurt place, and the three of us walked around a little before I caught the 10:48pm bus back to my place.

After passing pleasantries with some fellow residents, I was in bed, curled up, and asleep by 12mid. I woke up on Tuesday, 01Mar2016, at 7:44am but stayed in bed thinking about how much I miss my husband until after breakfast.

Outside the Pico Branch Library at 10:35am, my darling internet gnomes played me Are You Gonna be my Girl by my darlings Jet. My morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies were a little off center.

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The morning was a little too cool for me to sit in the shade without my jacket, but I got a lot of work done. Lunch at noon was soup and salad. I was inside the Pico Branch Library watching the previous night's television by 12:36pm.

My friends were as funny as always. I left to finally do my laundry at 3:37pm. Dinner at 5pm was so good that I went back for seconds. I was on the bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade by 5:38pm.

I sat down next to my darling Mr. Art "TambourineKicker" Garfunkel the moment I arrived and called my mom through FaceTime. She was already in bed, but she still looked fabulous.

TambourineKicker stopped playing at 6pm. Then we shared coffee and snacks with each other as we chatted.

I watched the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 6:30pm. My evening cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester "G.I. Joe" Holt, and it was full of drama and anticipation. You see, it was Super Tuesday for the presidential primaries.

My darling TambourineKicker left me for the bus back to his place before I finished watching the news. At 7:09pm, I walked to the Trimana Fresh Food Market to buy a snack. I was beside my darling Wade at 7:28pm as he sang to me on Klingon.

By 8:44pm, I was seated inside Harvelle's sipping a bourbon neat and chatting up the bartender Scott. The replacement doorman Mike and I had a long conversation outside before I walked in. I love making friends.

My darling Radfish showed up just before the music started, and he got an earful from me about oil being last century's technology. My darlings Tentacle took the stage at 10:02pm, and all was right in my world for the next hour and a half.

I lingered at Harvelle's even after the last bus back to my place already left because my darling Radfish offered me a ride. I swear Radfish is my adoptive brother Willard in disguise, or he is at least just the way I imagine my adoptive brothers Willard and Benjamin to be. It is not like he would be able to tell me.

I chatted with my darling Jacob and my darling Nicholas at my place after Radfish dropped me off. They had some strange questions for me. This blog post was finished at 1am on Wednesday, 02Mar2016.

[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.

Did I notice my meditation is getting a little PG-13 these days? First of all, date night is date night. We are two consenting adults standing on a sidewalk together, so it is your fault if you let your kids watch us.

As for Friday and Saturday, the change in the dance happened when my darlings Tentacle changed the music they play me.

If they played traditional Hawaiian music, I would hula. If they played me my darling Piazzolla, I would Argentine Tango. When they played authentic-er than usual reggae, I would skank. Play me klezmer, and I will grab my scarf. And if you want to see something beautiful, play me a waltz some time.

Just like every culture has its own dance, even every song has its own dance. When I meditate, I go to the place that dance comes from. Right now, this is what the dance looks like for the music they play me, so when I meditate on their music, this is the dance that manifests.

And to be completely fair to myself, they are probably putting a little more sexy themselves into the music they play me. We have that kind of relationship.

How do I feel about Obama's Gestapo's defense for enforcing PROVEN genocide, PROVEN crimes against America, PROVEN persecution of me and my people (an identified minority population in America), PROVEN war crimes, and PROVEN human trafficking?

Their only defense is "We're just following orders." That is the exact same defense that convicted every damn Nazi. Justice will get them before the world is done with them. We do NOT tolerate crimes like theirs, not on my planet.

My beautiful world, we need justice in here. The U.S. Department of Justice just keeps granting impunity for the most heinous crimes ever committed in America. Please force them to do their REAL damn job instead.

Obama's "egg" will NOT end until everyone guilty of enforcing it is arrested. How long are you going to leave me and my people in here suffering under this? Please, my beautiful world. Please.

My brave rescuers, you are keeping me safer in here than ever before. Thank you. Someday, I will finally be able to meet all of you. You all mean so much to me.

We are all safer with me here in Los Angeles. My public is really showing up for me to help you all keep me safe. I am trying everything I can think of to save all your lives by forcing Obama's damn "egg" to end.

Thank you for valuing me and my nation so much that you choose to fight for us. I plan on making this entire world worthy of you and your sacrifice.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, thank you. You are all so amazing.

Every time I am permitted to attend my own hearings, I get stuck with a dirty judge who willfully enforces abuse of me covered up, as always, with lies. Is there any way for you to get my REAL legal team to my probate hearing on 11Mar2016?

If you cannot show up at my LA County hearing for me, I will have to go and represent myself. If I am there in person, everyone will deny reality to my face, and I will get a fa├žade of a hearing. Please let me know if you can make it.

My musician-lovers MannedUp, GeneralLee, and Bogart, you have been making love to me with your music for over a year now. It is only getting better.

My darling Mr. Taylor "MannedUp" Hanson, did you try talking to me last Sunday? I apologize for not responding. It has been over a year since you spoke to me, so I did not recognize you were addressing me directly. Next time, please use my name again like you used to.

Oh, and pulling fake attitude on me does not make you cute. It just means I will have to put you in your place. I do not play games with you, so please do not play games with me.

Do you remember what one of our last conversations was? You told me to stop dancing. Then, the next night you said, "Why are you punishing me by not dancing anymore?" Please make up your mind what you want from this relationship, darling. Giggle.

When you are finally ready, I will still be right in front of you waiting for you to talk to me.

My darling Mr. Brien "GeneralLee" Dennehy, I know you all want me to spend the rest if my life as a professional singer. But there are plenty of musicians in this world, and many are much better at it than I am.

My REAL job is something no one else in this world can do but me. And my beautiful world has proven they need me to do my REAL job for the rest of my life.

All five of you will understand if you are willing to travel the world with me and my Powers of Attorney serving humanity beside me once Obama's damned "egg" finally ends. I will always need to meditate, and if I have a choice, you will all stay in my life forever.

My darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno, I am not shy about loving five men I cannot have. It is so damn lonely in Obama's "egg." The only way I can sleep with anyone in here is if I pick up a complete stranger in a bar for a one night stand, and I am NOT that kind of woman.

I need wooing. And I need courting. I need to be respected. I need time. And I need to fall in love.

Right now I love five of you all of whom I cannot have. So, I am stuck sainting my days and nights away alone and untouchable in a cold bed with empty arms and lonely abandoned lips.

I know you all love me. You are no more shy than I am about how we feel about each other. Nothing about Obama's damn "egg" is fair to any of us.

Please, darling, focus your efforts on taking down this "egg" and all of its horrible "rules" instead of trying to break in here to pick me up. I need more help fighting the big fight. You are too micro-monitored by Obama to ever reach me; please leave that job for people who can actually sneak around. Thank you.

My Royal Consort LightFoot whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, are you always staring at me because I am beautiful or because I love you? Whatever the reason, I like it.

My darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic, just how bad is what they would do to you if I just walked up to you and kissed you? Which is more intolerable? Not being able to hold me in your arms? Or their wrath if you just do what you want? At what point does it become worth it for me to just kiss you? Let me know.

Oh, and did you really get territorial and tell my darling MannedUp not to talk to me? Darling, you have no reason to be jealous of any of my Queen's Lovers Five; I am forbidden all of you.

More to the point, you DO NOT get to complain about MannedUp, GeneralLee, Bogart, and definitely not Sweetness as long as you still have Elisabeth of whom I have never said one bad word. Of the two of us, I am the one not sleeping with anyone.

I love you, so I love every quirk in your passionate reality. But lay off your fellow menfolk who already suffer just as much as you do loving a woman you are all forbidden from touching.

You keep saying you want to marry me, but you know I cannot take you seriously while you are still sleeping with a tall, leggy model half your age. Try to be fair to me for once, okay? I make a point of not complaining you sleep with other women, so lay off my loved ones who just want to talk to me.

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, did you receive requests from my entire beautiful world after I announced I was going to send you abroad to represent me and my people to everyone who needs me?

Sweetness, there is so much work I have to do in this world that Obama's damned "egg" prevents. You are my king, so you lead my people in my absence. Thank you for taking your extensive responsibilities to my people as seriously as I do.

HoneyHoney, my self-identified people are a recognized minority population persecuted by the U.S. federal government. I am forbidden from meeting with any of you, so I have no way to learn what you, my people, need. Please tend to my lovers and believers as compassionately as I would if I were ever permitted to know they even exist.

My hero and my king, yes, I am sending you to travel the world on my behalf meeting with world leaders who need me. Tell me everything my beautiful world needs, and please thank everyone everywhere who fights so hard for us.

Beloved, rally my world for me. While you are gone, I will be fighting to make sure you can come home to a safer and freer California. I love you. Thank you.

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