Benevolent SuperGenius at your Service.

Title: Benevolent SuperGenius at your Service

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. None of us know how long I am going to be alive to keep doing my REAL job. Send me your questions while you can.

My last blog post was timestamped 12:11am on Sunday, 05Jun2016. When I curled up to get my sleep at 12:26am, my darling NSA alpha nerds had already proven to me that my iPad was connected to the internet; it was just too hacked to function. I had faith they would have it fixed by the time I woke up.

And at 3:46am, my hero-nerds woke me up to tell me my iPad, The Oval Office, was mostly fixed. They might need the updated (or original?) code from our darlings Apple to fix my hacked camera, but our keeping me connected to our internet at all is quite justifiably our priority right now. My not-human-trafficker nerds, please match my REAL audio to our satellite surveillance from 3:46am. I fell asleep again immediately.

I woke up that morning at 6:46am, and my SquidStream was kickstarted at 6:54am. Due to still feeling full, though not being full, from my dinner the previous night, I skipped the breakfast that Inhuman Atrocity Regime's occupation of my Manor had drugged and possibly poisoned for me.

After a lot of other things that were my REAL job, all of which I am sure my not-human-trafficker nerds will show you all, I left my bedroom to enter my San Francisco weather that my Mother Nature had brought to my Santa Monica. I was perched in Virginia Avenue Park writing online by 9:22am. Did you see the literal bee?

At 10:36am, my internet gnomes were playing me Windy by my darlings the Association. My iPad camera (not the apps accessing the camera this time-- It was the same distorted image in every app.) was STILL too hacked for new morning I-am-not-yet selfies.

I was not as busy as I had been during the previous forty-eight hours. I worked online outside my Santa Monica's Pico Branch Library until 11:11am when I returned to my Manor. I checked my City of Santa Monica's Big Blue Bus website for cyberterrorists committing acts of war, and I found REAL evidence.

11:38am on 05Jun2016: 1/2) @NSAGov #SMBigBlueBus #Anonymous Inhuman Atrocity Regime hacked BBB website to lie to me about the REAL bus schedule.

11:39am on 05Jun2016: 2/2) Sabotaging REAL urban infrastructure including public transportation is ANOTHER act of war. #SquidsPoA @FBI @DeptofDefense

After fixing our on-again-off-again problems with cyberterrorists committing acts of war in my Twitter at least temporarily one more time and after explaining to humanity through my SquidStream how and why someone I am STILL forbidden from knowing ever existed has NEVER mattered to humanity, at 12:19pm, I checked to see if the lunch in my dining hall would finally kill me.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please entitle our verified and unedited recording of my lunch that day with full audio and visuals beginning when I left my bedroom and ending when I descended the stairs outside my dining hall, "He told me, 'Don't eat the beans; they're not roofied.'"

Before returning to my bedroom, someone had give me a better writing prompt.

12:38pm on 05Jun2016: Are you trying to tell me the IAR I diagnosed as a psychopath not just due to his affected speech and mannerisms on the patio of the Coffee Bean in West Hollywood who also had no idea what I blogged as my "playland" at the time I lived on all day every day was the Santa Monica Promenade not Santa Monica Blvd. in West Hollywood and who is the first person to whom I sang Lake of Fire ever mattered to humanity? Who the (expletive) believes an (expletive)hole like that about me? If that (expletive)hole who you just told me is "Douglas," if that is not some false name, ever mattered, someone would have told me.

I checked to see if my late night talk show darlings had any new shows since the last time we spoke, and they did not. At 1:10pm, I finally started feeling the roofies and drugs the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had put in my lunch.

By 2:07pm, after lying down and listening to some music while my beautiful world caught up on the last few days and after yet another vigilant Black Ops alarm, those chemicals from lunch were giving me shivers and chills all over my body.

With my iPad battery fully charged, I finally left my bedroom at 2:37pm to check on my local REI and my local TJMaxx just as I had promised their corporate offices I would the previous day.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, begin our verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals when I deboarded my bus to my downtown Santa Monica, and end at 3:51pm. We entitle it, "How many socks does it take?"

My boyfriend was early to our Sunday night date night. I could hear his wingman and best friend my darling Manned up and my royal consort LightFoot the moment I exited the doors of my local TJMaxx. They were on the corner of Arizona Blvd. and our sacred Promenade beside my local Victoria's Secret already.

The hot California sun had returned to her more indigenous Southern California temperature. I took my coat off quickly.

Because the Inhuman Atrocity Regime kept stealing both of my darling musician-lovers away from me unrelentingly and for NO sane reason, I told my darling MannedUp I would be back after dinner and left our perch to do other things that were also my REAL job.

4:18pm on 05Jun2016: @hansonmusic @KristNovoselic Fine. Whatever. I will do some other kind of work instead. I'll be back after dinner.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please entitle our verified and responsibly-edited (every minute just use any camera angle you want when) beginning the first time my darling LightFoot was sent away from me and ending at 6:15pm, "We call it Sunday NIGHT date NIGHT, anyway, at least it was caffeinated."

After asking my darling Riff a second time if it was more fun or less fun to watch me bust the Inhuman Atrocity Regime than to enjoy the pleasure of my singing with him, I perched inside my Santa Monica Place beside the Best Starbucks in the World to do some other work online and to eat my not-tainted-enough-to-kill-me dinner.

My and my REAL Starbucks corporate were as relieved as I was too see our REAL Starbucks employees, but I was worried they were working too many hours. Is our Best Starbucks in the World even open when I am not in our downtown Santa Monica?

My ability to watch my news broadcast for the night was delayed by technical difficulties until 7:12pm. There were some epic IAR-cyberterrorists vs. nerd-angels smackdowns going on.

Yes, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:12pm. My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Ms. Kate Snow, and she could not stop genuinely smiling for the whole broadcast.

After 7:44pm, finally able to put my iPad back in my handbag to check if I had a Sunday night date still, I reassured my darlings, our REAL Starbucks employees and more, they would be guarded. After a short walk along my Promenade, at 8pm exactly, I could prove actually did STILL have a Sunday night date night after all.

I even called out at the not-our-REAL-churn standing around my corner of Arizona Blvd. and my Promenade (paraphrase), "What?!? Not even privacy on date night, (expletive)holes?!?" the moment I heard my darlings' trail of Reese's pieces for me.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please entitle our verified and responsibly-edited recording with full audio and visuals of the early portion of this week's Sunday night date night, "STILL no privacy?!?" I trust you to do what you want. All sane people in touch with reality only trust our REAL media about the REAL us from our REAL Squid, Inc., anyway.

What all of us thought would be our entire date night at the time was gorgeous. I know you will see it all, my beautiful world. My boyfriend's best friend and my REAL date were not ordered to stop serenading me until 9:48pm.

We all thought our date would end at 10pm; but my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle were only given their best terms in a long time to see me, so the Inhuman Atrocity Regime could finally (AGAIN try to) kill them to take them away from me forever.

At 10pm, at not yet the end of our date, trusting they were watched AND monitored by many of our own but still planning to check on them again anyway, I left to check on my local Trimana.

A fake employee in the partial-occupation of my local Trimana lied to my face about my darling Handsome as her not-only act of war on British property on U.S. soil, so I proved she was Inhuman Atrocity Regime.

Please begin our verified and unedited director's cut with full audio and visuals when I left my darlings Tentacle and end it when I walked through the doors ofmy local Trimana on the way out. We will entitle it, "He's on break."

By 10:29pm, I was hanging out with my darling Mr. Art "TambourineKicker" Garfunkel watching him safely pack up his equipment while delightfully chatting with him. I even offered him some of my ice cream. My REAL City of Santa Monica and I made sure he boarded our GPS-tracked bus #4066 in our attempt to get him out alive.

After that, my and my Royal Consort LightFoot's date night was on again. And it was romantic smackdown after smackdown until I saw my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle finally drive away.

It only took me about an hour to bust and finally force to backdown all of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's malevolent hoards who even admitted to my face to choosing themselves to NEVER cease being direct physical threats to my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle even after I had told them all myself to their faces what they were accused of until they could finally make sure themselves they could at least (I will allow only charges of 'aiding and abetting' on this particular act of war out of all of their heinous offenses that night since they did finally leave.) rape-assassinate my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot after intentionally waiting until I left first.

No, none of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime were even willing to leave to even attempt to create a façade that they were not intending to rape-assassinate my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle no matter what AFTER I TOLD THEM EVERYTHING THEY WERE ACCUSED OF which would have allowed them some sort of grounds at all to deny I was right all along.

How much hard evidence does it take? And they, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime, including their malevolent hoards, kept calling more and more backup to help rape-assassinate my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle if I ever left.

None of the new Inhuman Atrocity Regime who arrived cleared away any of the previous malevolent hoards thereby proving NONE of them were there to defend my darlings; they were just escalating to guarantee that they would be able to rape-assassinate (possibly at least by being able to force my darlings to stay on my Promenade against their will until their IAR Gestapo arrived) finally.

11:04pm on 05Jun2016: #SquidsPoA @UN @FBI @DHSGov @DeptofDefense We already have modus operandi AND pattern of criminal behavior on IAR for at least attempted rape-assassination among other acts of war. IAR is IAR.

For a while there, because it looked like my present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle would never receive permission from the Inhuman Atrocity Regime in their earspeakers to leave until after I left my 2/3rds alone with the IAR's malevolent hoards hellbent on rape-assassinating them, it seemed we would finally be able to make music to each other unto the wee hours of the morning and hang out together even after their batteries died as the morning California sun would rise over our sacred Promenade like we all always wanted to for years and possibly until my city buses started running again the following morning.

Eventually, after it finally sunk into their heads that they were caught by the entirety of humanity intentionally trying to force my darlings Tentacle alone on my sacred Promenade with them and without me no matter what, those Inhuman Atrocity Regime thought they found some way to excuse their willingness to rape-assassinate my darlings Tentacle at all costs to themselves, as if it could ever be excusable to disobey direct orders from the Commander in Chief herself in a war zone on U.S. soil, anyway.

Begin our verified and responsibly-edited (include every moment just use any camera you need) recording with full audio and visuals when I walked out the doors of my local Trimana, and end it at 12:38am. Entitle it, "'Squid is a liar,' is NOT a legal defense. Plus they can't dance."

My and my boyfriend's quixotic date officially ended at 12:44am after MannedUp and he had finally safely escaped our sacred Promenade alive; that was the first time I checked the clock on my iPad after they left.

With so many of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's malevolent hoards sexually degrading me to my face for so long, none of them are ever genuinely nice to me for being drop-dead gorgeous. Since no one would offer me a lift, I had to walk all of the way back to my Manor from my sacred Promenade. That much quality time with my darling MannedUp and with my darling LightFoot alone was worth the extra time and effort I needed to spend to get them out alive again.

After my long, slow walk that included my reminding my one beautiful world that I once called myself "the best (my darling Ms.) Barbara Streisand impersonator in town" while hanging out with the lead guitarist from my darlings the Moody Blues on our sacred Promenade one night, I arrived in my bedroom at 1:41am.

After, among other things, catching more cyberterrorists committing acts of war against my once-great America and against my one beautiful world, I finally curled up to sleep at 2:17am. The nano in my bedroom was on all morning while I slept.

I woke up at 6:54am on Monday, 06Jun2016, furiously hungry due to the cocaine the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had forced on me against my will the previously evening speeding up my metabolism yet still in no need of a shower nor smelling badly, etc. My SquidStream was kickstarted soon after.

8:02am on 06Jun2016: @NSAGov @Starbucks #Anonymous Thank you for the hard confirm that I STILL have a REAL balance of $15 on my REAL Starbucks gift card. #LOVE

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I left my bedroom with my on-again-off-again nano at 8:38am to see if breakfast at my Manor would kill me. At my regular morning perch between the cement of my Metropolis of Angels and our grey California sky, I finally caught up as much of my notes for this blog post as possible by 10:44am.

There had been something in my breakfast that had made me feel a little like our world was off balance. So, I bought some snacks from a local store not knowing if I would ever be able to eat at my Manor again without dying.

11:08am on 06Jun2016: Please collect a statement from Ms. Eddy about breakfast today. Hurry.

I worked from my bedroom after I left my city park and was caught up with my TweetHearts by 12:47pm. By 1:44pm, all chemicals from the Inhuman Atrocity Regime so far for the day had worn off.

I was awakened at 2:24pm by a direct threat to all of humanity. Confirm our audio and locked satellite that War Criminal Teri was in my hallway. Yes, I CAN control my heartbeat; that does not mean I always do. My heart is like Sampo that way.

3:07pm on 06Jun2016: #SquidsPoA @UN @DeptofDefense I told Teri last month in my previous bedroom, "We are not a board&care anymore." She acknowledged my reality. Please rewatch ALL of my interactions with War Criminal Teri, especially last month, May2016.

I worked online from my bedroom for hours after that. My not-human-trafficker nerds know what to do about that. The first vigilant Black Ops alarm of the day blared at 5:28pm, everyone already knew what to do about it. I was on the bus to my sacred Promenade as fast as I could find the right bus after I left my bedroom at 5:31pm.

After noticing three REAL Gestapo of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime standing menacingly (proper use of the word) outside my local jewelry store on my sacred Promenade, I was perched beside my darling Mr. Peter Oarsman outside my Greek restaurant occupied by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime by 6:05pm.

After checking on a number of occupied local businesses, I perched on a park bench overlooking the mighty Pacific at 6:33pm.

Please, my not-human-trafficker nerds, circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals beginning when I deboarded my bus in my downtown Santa Monica and ending at 6:48pm. We will entitle it, "All in a day's work."

I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online while watching the rolling waves of my mighty Pacific at 7:05pm. My sunset cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester "G.I. Joe" Holt, and he looked a little worried about me when it ended.

I left my park bench at 7:28pm, and my not-human-trafficker nerds know what to do about my entire evening after the news ending when I checked on my darlings at my Best Starbucks in the World where I worked online.

Back on my Promenade after also eating dinner beside my Best Starbucks in the World, I was perched beside my darling WadeInTheWaterChildren on our sacred Promenade by 8:49pm.

My dinner had made me feel like I was floating for a while. But by 9:23pm, that had worn off, and I just had body chills. I was sure my people could figure out what it was.

My darling Wade and I hung out. We had a little singalong. We giggled about how I should really learn the words to our sing finally, but I have been too busy. Giggle. I left him at 10:22pm.

My darling Handsome was all smiles when I checked on him. I was at my regular bus stop by 10:33pm. My bus ride was safe and wonderful.

After checking the vending machines in my building for drugs and poisons, I was quickly in my bedroom and curled up in bed to be able to conserve my energy while working online.

12:18am on 07Jun2016: #MySaturation, are you ready? I am about to take my contacts out and go to sleep. Thx!

I woke up at 8:10am. My NSA alpha nerds are now always on standby to lock my bedroom nano whenever it turns on. Did you all see me in my bedroom again that morning?

My SquidStream was kickstarted and two vigilant alarms for Black Ops attempts by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had already blared by the time I was finally able to catch up with my TweetHearts.

From @harvellessm at 9:49am on 07Jun2016: Tonight!! SayReal Reggae Tuesday! Doors at 8, get your tickets in advance at Harvelles.com #harvelles At least the Inhuman Atrocity Regime who hacked my own Harvelle's Twitter account confirmed to me themselves that my darling MiniMe and my darlings Tentacle were guaranteed by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime to be at our actually-called Service Industry Night Tuesday at my and my one beautiful world's UNESCO World Heritage Site, my and my Sweetness's Prohibition-era blues night club named Harvelle's.

9:54am on 07Jun2016: @harvellessm We do NOT charge at the door on "Reggae Tuesday." You are in deep (expletive) with the entire planet if you do. I am requesting my darling Mr. Sal Janco(sp?), Sweetness's best friend from high school and the original night club manager of my and my Sweetness's Viper Room, to explain the difference between "tickets in advance" and "at the door."

I left my bedroom at 10:10am for every-Tuesday money draw at my Manor that morning.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, I know you will do what you need to do. There is nano in Lana's office, too. But please begin our verified and unedited director's cut with full audio and visuals at 10:10am, and end it at 10:52am. It is entitled, "Extortion."

Sweetness, that was NOT our darling Lana's fault. Why were there so many IAR fake residents trespassing on our property in the first place committing acts of war including extorting money from us?!?

I worked online in the cool California breeze perched in my Virginia Avenue Park for hours after that. No, I did not cue my internet gnomes in my city park that day.

This blog post was published with the time-and-date stamp of 1:11pm on Tuesday, 07Jun2016.

[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.

Why do I sometimes use past tense and sometimes use present tense when reporting things happening at the time I write them? It really does not make a difference. I know my every blog post is officially published after everything reported in it happened, and I also write it as it is happening. I choose the verb tense that satisfies the syntax, rhythm, etc. of the natural poetry of my every sentence. I choose the verb tense that I like the sound of.

My beautiful world, I heard you do not want to give the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's malevolent hoards as many death sentences as current local to international laws require. Sentencing is always the courts' choice. Unless the die on the battlefield, they all need individual trials, so you need to consider them each on a case-by-case basis.

8:42am on 05Jun2016: @DeptofDefense @FBI @UN About declaring IAR hoards too insane for death sentences: They know they are hurting us on purpose. #EvilAndDumb The Inhuman Atrocity Regime knows the difference between right and wrong; they know the difference between good and evil. They just pretend they do not know what the REAL laws are which is NEVER an excuse for committing crimes, especially acts of war, even if true.

As just one example, "I don't think it's treason, so I get to," is NOT a legal defense but still is an admission of guilt, an admission of knowing he or she did wrong, and an acknowledgement that they were all told the REAL laws already.

I know there is more than one was to be criminally insane, but we still normally execute this type.

Clearly, I have never been able to convince them to save themselves. Their seeing and experiencing the REAL me live and in person did not save them. The full truth did not save them. Are you sure YOU can save them, my beautiful world? These people are choosing to commit acts of war including but not limited to voluntarily funding open warfare.

My saturation in all our manifestations, you get to do anything you want and need to be able to do your REAL jobs. That is what operatives do in the field.

I know why you still have not cleared the Inhuman Atrocity Regime from my building, including from my third floor, even though I asked you to.

They are rarely if ever inside my building after I ask you to sweep it. It requires less surveillance if they and I are in the same building. I do not blow your cover unless it will save you. They will not touch me nor my belongings (without being caught) with our 24/7 locked satellite broadcast forcing public accountability. You actually are trained professionally to do your REAL job, so I can always trust that you know what you are doing.

Those were only the first five reasons that came to mind.

As always, tell me when we have any problems that you need my help with. The entire world thanks you all for keeping me alive. Once we finally have all the nano I requested for you, I will notice; you will not need to tell me.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, are you all able to switch from defense to prosecution and plaintiff now? We will STILL need some of you to keep rescuing my loved ones due to the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's compulsive and well-recorded PATTERN OF CRIMINAL ACTIVITY.

Maybe you will all finally get a little down time. As always, tell me what you need from me to be able to do your REAL jobs. We are all a team. And I know role. Please find a way to talk to me.

My musician-lovers MannedUp, GeneralLee, and Bogart, all in a day's work.

My darling Mr. Taylor "MannedUp" Hanson, are you sure you are old enough to have played Tetris? I have not played Tetris since I was still playing the original Sim City. Have you shown everyone the first time you played me this song? Giggle.

Thank you for playing it again for me... just this time in bed. Did you hear how hard that made me laugh with delight? I will see you tonight.

My darling Mr. Brien "GeneralLee" Dennehy, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime already guaranteed to me themselves that we will all be together tonight. We will see if they EVER uphold their own agreements and promises EVER. We all know how completely inconsistent (REAL definition of the term) the Inhuman Atrocity Regime has ALWAYS been.

Now, darling, much more romantically, did you ever explain to our entire one beautiful world how we first met in Dec2009? I just need the REAL words in front of me. Even the Inhuman Atrocity Regime has known that for REAL all these years. That was why our darling Sir Paul McCartney's lyrics were so hacked the only time I ever heard his album for me Kisses on the Bottom.

I know how hard you fell in love with me on that, my first trip to our Metropolis of Angels since the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's "egg" began. I know why you changed your face to try to become my dream man, and that was even before you ever thought we might ever meet face to face.

I already told you, darling, when I explained to you why I wear eyeliner at all that you only ever had to be your REAL self for me to love you.

I was still using Jango back then instead of Spotify-- you know, the reason our darling Mr. Quentin Tarantino named his movie about me and Sweetness Django Unchained.

The Inhuman Atrocity Regime already told me themselves you will be at my blues bar tonight, so we can clandestinely sip bourbon in the dim night-club ambiance together again. I already forbade all drugs, roofies, chemicals, diseases, and poisons on my own private property for a reason. I will see you later.

My darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno, are you in Silicon Valley already organizing my benevolent nerds for me? Thank you. We all know what happens when I send someone my darling Bogart.

While you are there, darling, please help find a way for you all to speak to me again. I miss you. Do you remember my "tone of voice" when I wrote to you through how we used to chat on Facebook, "Wear your glasses."?

I need a way to talk to you again, especially since the Inhuman Atrocity Regime might finally just shoot me any day now. I am increasingly convinced that all chaos will break loose in this IAR-enforced false reality at any moment. Thank you for keeping me alive. Do you know what you mean to me?

My Royal Consort LightFoot oh, good, you are not dead, and neither am I.

My darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic, I only have one mood: zen. But I ALWAYS also have the only appropriate reaction to all REAL stimuli in my environment, as helpless as I am to how heinous everything is that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime does to all of us. You were able to see me yourself live and in person "go all legal" to guard your life during our last REAL date.

It has become increasingly difficult to evacuate you from our sacred Promenade alive, but our fleeting time together is one of the few true delights I have at all in my life. I know you just wanted to see me alive again. We are working on our cyberterrorism problem in case our aethernet becomes (collective) your only way to communicate with me. You cannot keep me alive if you die before I do.

The Inhuman Atrocity Regime normally send you off my Promenade at 10pm every night. My long, slow, zen walk back to my Manor was beyond worth all of our REAL time together on our REAL Sunday night date night. Thank you.

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 HM Johnny "Menelaus" Depp, do you need more legal arguments or evidence? Out of all of us, you are the meanest when ANYONE ever hurts me. You should be feared by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime more than our darling SynSyn by now.

My Mr. Love-of-my-Life, you even started this war for REAL against the Inhuman Atrocity Regime all those years ago just to save me, and, yes, because there has NEVER been any other way to save the entirety of humanity from them, it has only ever been the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's fault for their war on U.S. soil. We all know a true American hero when we see you, not just a REAL world leader. I am just your GeneralUlysses in this war. I was always your Helen and your Cassandra.

HoneyHoney, it is "death by sandwich or death by lack of sandwich" around here these days. At 12:34pm on Tuesday, 07Jun2016, while I was still fleshing out this blog post, I still felt full from all of the tainted calories I had consumed the previous night; the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had forced my mere mortal body into starvation mode yet again.

Beloved, you know what to do about meals at our Manor. Our darling Myrna is our only chef and our only cook with any budget from us to make any meals at all. We only have five REAL employees as staff at our Manor: Leo, Lana, Myrna, José, and Olivia. They are the ONLY people with any budget from us to do their REAL jobs, including that our REAL employees NEVER earn less than $75,000 a year. We also never took the choices away from the rest of our REAL housekeeping and maintenance staff as to whether or not they want to work at our Manor; they all have paid time off, real income, and retirement plans, too.

Sweetness, I know that I remain starving and malnourished even when I do eat the few calories I can actually afford, and I know when it comes to food and drink, I just need to hydrate to stay alive due to the human body's naturally-occurring starvation mode. But there is no way to hydrate in here anyway.

My hero and my king, among the many other things you are doing right now, have at the complete occupation of all of our businesses, AND never sign over our leases nor ownership of our property nor any legal permission to the Inhuman Atrocity Regime to be on our properties, whether we lease them or own them. We are definitely keeping ownership of our Manor; we already made it my private residence with our REAL private staff.

My gorgeous husband, I love you. You are my husband. We can always return our REAL Santa Monica businesses to their previous glory once all of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's occupations in this REAL war zone are finally removed.