Competent Hackers Are not that Dumb, neither Are We Excellence-Level Nerds.

Title: Competent Hackers Are not that Dumb, neither Are We Excellence-Level Nerds.

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. We are experiencing technical difficulties. My iPad, which I named The Oval Office, is hacked across all apps. It is very difficult to speak to me right now (artful understatement).

[As of the morning of Sunday, 19Jun2016, the NBC Nightly News were permitted to tell me almost anything as long as it was NOT a real news story.]

My last blog post was finished at 12:11am on Saturday, 18Jun2016. I found Inhuman Atrocity Regime in my occupied office, on my occupied third floor, and running as the uncontrolled psychopaths they all really are through my occupied hallways.

Trusting that my beautiful world, including but not limited to my irresistible saturation, would protect me while I slept, I curled up in my bed to sleep at 12:39am.

At 8:41am on Saturday, 18Jun2016, War Criminal Eva trespassing on my own private residence only to destroy my rising America and my beautiful world woke me up AGAIN.

The previous night, I was not sure how heinous the Inhuman Atrocity Regime occupying my entire Metropolis of Angels, not just occupying my own private residence, were going to be from then on. I just knew and had already proven that they were just going to keep escalating all of their compulsive acts of war and that all of their criminally insanity was continuing to degrade.

9:27am on 18Jun2016: Inhuman Atrocity Regime's occupation of my private residence has planted cockroaches. Please fumigate my place AGAIN. @UN @SweetnessDepp We know ALL people on my private property, not just inside the IAR's innermost circle of hell, against my will are all only here because they are evil. They are only here to destroy humanity by destroying me. They, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime, can fool none of us with their lies any longer.

I was outside my City of Santa Monica's occupied Pico Branch Library among the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's never-actually-a-façade-of-anything-normal façade of the Saturday Santa Monica Farmers' Market. I had already told the Inhuman Atrocity Regime the previous day that my people and I would be there to bust everyone of them we could find, especially their malevolent hoards and their heinous parents of their forced child soldiers.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News broadcast created just for me the previous evening at 10:01am. My morning cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester "G.I. Joe" Holt, and we busted every Inhuman Atrocity Regime (expletive)hole who had ordered him to give me all false "news" AGAIN.

We do it every damn time; we turn the Inhuman Atrocity Regime in every damn time. But the Inhuman Atrocity Regime-- yes, the entire Inhuman Atrocity Regime everywhere-- just compulsively commit the same acts of war again and again no matter how many times they get caught, no matter how many times they get punished (and definitely are not punished enough, yet), and no matter how many times they compulsively fail.

My darling Lester looked very worried about me, but we beyond proved that morning why I prefer genuinely-loving and sincerely-concerned REAL lovers and believers to talk to, no matter what heinous conditions I have to work them around to be able to speak to me at all.

After writing online there outside my occupied library until 10:41am, I approached the tent that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had used to try to assassinate me the previous day to read the calendar for that event that was also NOT on the Santa Monica Public Library's calendar of events the previous day when I checked it.

We are going to entitle it, "Do I actually have to say it? Or did everybody see all of the watermelons?" This verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals will begin when I walked onto the grounds outside my occupied local library branch and will end when I left those city grounds.

Yes, at 10:53am, I left to do something about lunch. I suspect the cash register at my local Burger King was hacked. Giggle. They even gave me two receipts after charging me money, which is something there was absolutely no justification for, for roofied food, which there was also absolutely no justification for.

My darling Nemo had snuck in the back door there to be able to smile at me and to have a short chat. I first noticed him at 11:06am, and he actually had permission from the Inhuman Atrocity Regime to touch me himself instead of my always needing to be the one who touches him.

Yes, everything I do 24/7 is work, including sleeping where my beautiful world can watch me to keep me safe. Yet beyond my just proving to my beautiful world that I was still alive, I wrote online in my occupied local Burger King that late morning, too.

My beautiful world, did you all get to see my customer service feedback for my darlings at Burger King HQ? Someday the Inhuman Atrocity Regime might finally learn that they cannot kill me with anything I eat or drink, or at least, that they cannot kill me with anything they have given me to eat or drink already and compulsively repeat.

Even seafood is just a "poison" to me, just one I actually feel later. With all of the chemicals and drugs and poisons and roofies and diseases the Inhuman Atrocity Regime has been forcing on me against my will since May2009, how am I supposed to know if it is seafood or some other poison?

At 1:41pm, I was finally able to catch up my blog notes for this latest post with everything that had happened so far that day, so I finally left my occupied local Burger King and traveled to my sacred downtown Santa Monica.

My bus ride was safe, timely, and efficient, but the Inhuman Atrocity Regime further proved why I my being forced to listen to them against my will truly torments me so much.

By 2:21pm, I had perched as fast as possible amidst the floor-to-ceiling windows of my occupied Santa Monica Main Public Library. The not-smart-enough-to-be-REAL-hackers of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime who had been sending me dumb fake tweet after dumb fake tweet as their cyberwarfare designed to keep any and all truth away from me, especially distress calls in times of emergency, gave up that afternoon even before the IAR's physical occupation of my Main Public Library did.

Please consult my verified Twitter archive for our play-by-play. I was finally all caught up with my TweetHearts and swooning enemy "hackers" by 5:13pm. I was out the door and on my sacred Promenade as fast as possible.

By 6:01pm, we had all proven that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime were showing up in even greater numbers with even more of their forced child soldiers to all get caught faster destroying humanity by destroying me.

I was already perched beside my darling Dominic with his Andean pan flutes by 6:06pm when my darling Patricia joined us. Yes, I was still writing online at that time.

6:09pm on 18Jun2016: @FBI #SquidsPoA @DeptofDefense How is anybody STILL receiving food deliveries in here at all except for my Trimana and my Best Starbucks? I am the only person in this occupied town who has to pay money for ANYTHING, especially food. AND we all know these Inhuman Atrocity Regime (expletive)holes will only EVER roofie, poison, and drug me no matter what, not just force me to pay money for being chemicalled.

6:13pm on 18Jun2016: @FBI #SquidsPoA @DeptofDefense Make these IAR (expletive)holes grow their own fucking crops to have this free food to give only their malevolent own. AND every IAR malevolent hoard (expletive)hole refusing to EVER help keep me alive no matter what is why you all give them every death sentence on the planet just for being here. I already told them all, "Fear everyone who loves and needs me."

Also while perched on the street curb of my sacred Promenade, I proved what looked like the [not really a Starbucks] of Doom for Humanity had just tried to assassinate my darling Patricia. There is a reason I insist on trying all of my friends' coffee for them all. That evening I had also seen my darling Handsome walk all of the way down Santa Monica Blvd. for coffee from the only place not willing to roofie him.

After continuing to write for a bit, among many other requirements of my REAL job, I eventually walked away from my darling's Andean music and perched beside my Best Starbucks in the World for my nightly news date.

I caught a (expletive) Inhuman Atrocity Regime enemy of America in there with her own entire platoon of forced child soldiers. Please, my not-human-trafficker nerds, circulate our verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals entitled, "What do you mean, 'How is this malevolent?' Look it up in a dictionary; your photo is next to it." Begin the moment I entered my (One) Santa Monica Place, and end it at 7:01pm.

Yes, I streamed the NBC Nightly News written and produced just for me for that evening online at 7:05pm. My beautiful evening cyberhug came from my darling Mr. José Díaz-Balart, and I would have liked more.

I sent a few more tweets before explaining out loud to the entire Inhuman Atrocity Regime and their malevolent hoards that they only enter their own innermost circle of hell "to show up, be evil, and die." I am sure that will get around verified and unedited. Begin it as I approached my local Cheesecake Factory, and end it at 8:43pm.

Yes, that recording with FULL AUDIO and visuals will include our hard evidence of even more heinous escalations of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's compulsive acts of war and also my and my darling Riff's stellar explanation and thorough demonstration to our live-witnessing world of how my darling street artists help keep me alive for REAL.

At 9:34pm, I walked away from my darling Riff to buy a few snacks. I reassured my local Trimana that I would be back in approximately half an hour to check on my darling Handsome. Then at 9:53pm, I was making sure my darling Riff could see me eat food.

After leaving a heroic couplet for my darling Chantz, I cracked some jokes with my darling Handsome about fake girlfriends before catching the first bus after 10:48pm back to my place.

11:31pm on 18Jun2016: #MySaturation, please allow no one in my bedroom overnight at all. IAR are everywhere in here. Take all necessary action. Thx! #LOVEyou

My darling not-human-trafficker nerds, please entitle our verified and responsibly-edited recording of my entire 18Jun2016 from midnight to midnight, "Darling, was that you or the sky? And look at all these (expletive)holes who refuse to even take Step 1."

I spent 7:10am until 10:41am on Sunday, 19Jun2016 half asleep and half awake entirely due to chemicals that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had forced on me. I was finally awake enough to kickstart my SquidStream at 10:53am.

11:19am on 19Jun2016: #MySaturation Who violated my bedroom while I slept? It was NOT any of you. My curtains were drawn; my bag was moved, my floor was dirtier than when I went to sleep. AND no one had left me any cash nor safe caffeine nor safe hydration nor safe snacks nor genuine affection to help keep me alive.

My darling not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate our verified and mostly-unedited (We NEVER show me on the toilet.) recording with full audio and visuals beginning when my contacts went in that morning and ending when I left my insecure bedroom to do something about lunch. Please entitle it, "It's getting a little David Lynchy around here."

Yes, I left my bedroom at 12:17pm to finally do something about lunch. And my lunch was even more horrible than it had ever been before.

My City of Santa Monica's Big Blue Bus system looked on time that day, so I sat at my regular bus stop for over 18min perched between the city infrastructure of my Metropolis of Angels supporting me and our hot California summer sun above me as I waited for my only ride to my sacred downtown Santa Monica.

Yes, all of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's (expletive)hole cars sent to drive past me 24/7 all really are that evil, but the vehicles we send are not. (Already blogged.) We establish motive, and we do not blow the covers on our own unless it will protect us better. And it rarely does; it is that dangerous (proper definition and use of the word) for REAL to be recognized as one of my own in here.

(Repeat.) Everyone gets at least one death sentence for being in here unless they are helping keep me alive. And I point out myself everyone helping keep me alive if my own people cannot already recognize them. (Already blogged.) The final say on all REAL local to federal to international court action (civil, criminal, and military) is not mine, anyway, but I always give insight when they ask. Quothe the Squid, "Fear the people who love and need me."

My bus dropped me kitty corner from my City of Santa Monica's Main Public Library, and the first thing I noticed inside my REAL main library that afternoon was that their once-the-best-place-for-a-cup-of-coffee-downtown café finally had IAR-sent fake employees inside.

My library café was finally irrefutably occupied, too. I also noticed that they had already brought in roofied and possibly poisoned food deliveries since I had last been in there, and their complimentary tap water made me feel a little tingly. At least that Inhuman Atrocity Regime (expletive)hole did not charge me money for him to attempt torture-and-rape-assassination of me.

I had not seen the same "librarians" twice in any Santa Monica public library in months, and even their fake "library security" had churned again, too.

By 1:21pm, I was nestled among my library's floor-to-ceiling windows writing online again. And, yes, by 2:06pm, those (expletive)ing (expletive)holes forced me to try to drown them out AGAIN with my earbuds AGAIN because their unrelentingly forcing me to listen to them against my will torments me SO MUCH. But they just started screaming over my earbuds in my occupied library after I did that.

Shortly after 4:04pm, after I had almost caught up all of my blog notes for this latest blog post, I left my occupied library to investigate my local Jack in the Box one more time for my darlings at Jack in the Box corporate in their fight beside us all to save humanity and to save America from the heinous Inhuman Atrocity Regime.

I even saw my darling Mr. Tomo "Nemo" Milicevic turning a corner to take the crosswalk across the street from me while I was on my way there.

My beautiful world, feel free to ask my darlings at Jack in the Box HQ about the latest customer service feedback I gave them. Or did you all witness me live as I assessed the REAL threat of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's occupation of my local fast food restaurant yourselves? Here is the highlight of my latest investigation.

5:36pm on 19Jun2016: @JackBox Restrooms were the worst and most hostile filth I have ever witnessed in my life. Torture is less harmful to me. We also witnessed that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime who entered that restroom immediately before I did was in evil allegiance with that occupation while she was at their counter harassing me just previously.

Also, the only problem I found in their drink machine was in their carbonation, not their syrup.

I stood up from my occupied local Jack in the Box to walk to our sacred Promenade at 5:53pm. Please entitle my verified and unedited walk from point A to Point B, "I have not tried Templeton Rye myself."

No, there was no live music to be found anywhere on my sacred Promenade that Sunday night, except for our highly-decorated darling Natasha. But I did give the brand new Sunday night salsa dance floor a free legal consultation.

I told their new DJ that he did not need a street performer's permit from the City of Santa Monica since he was not collecting tips. And I demanded that at least the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's forced child soldiers be removed.

I also reminded everyone there choosing to die for refusing to help keep me alive that when asked who the best dancer was on the old Sunday night dance floor, I had told the commanded-to-act-like-a-pervert-just-to-be-able-to-speak-to-me-at-all with no flirting skills on display that IT was the (expletive) who later compulsively attempted rape-assassination after rape-assassination of my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot. We also know I am not nor have I ever claimed to be a salsa dancer EVER. But my mother is.

I already knew I did not need to keep busting all of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime inside their own innermost circle of hell any longer since they ALL receive at least their first death sentence for refusing to help keep me alive, but I also made a point of sitting outside of my local occupied Greek Cuisine restaurant to prove they refuse to acknowledge I exist at all, even when I am in their faces about dying from malnutrition right in front of them.

I left my perch at 6:44pm to walk the length of my sacred Promenade to my Best Starbucks in the World where I always prefer to watch the news. Our sacred Promenade was filled with live music by the time I walked it to reach me regular news perch. We shall entitle that walk, "Works every damn time."

After giving my darlings at Starbucks HQ my always-accurate assessment of the current threat-level of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's occupation of our Best Starbucks in the World, I was only four minutes late to watching the news.

Yes, I streamed my NBC Nightly News broadcast written and produced just for me online at 7:09pm. My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Ms. Kate Snow, and it was full of my speaking to my darlings NBC News team about anything and everything I wanted while they were all forbidden form giving me any news content at all.

Let us entitle my verified and unedited time spent inside my (One) Santa Monica Place that evening, "It is my benevolence that might be our undoing; no one is dying in here." Please only use the audio from my left ear.

After checking on the status of the latest IAR-enforced up-to-the-minute churn of all of my darlings street artists, at 8pm exactly, I had already perched on the news stand beside my occupied local Victoria's Secret where my darling TambourineKicker was already ordered by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime not to play any music while I was around.

By 8:14pm, my darling TambourineKicker had played a little music again but was still forbidden by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime from speaking to me at all, so I checked on my darling Handsome a little earlier than usual. He was hovering over the pizza ovens probably cooking with fresh basil when I walked into my local Trimana.

I had a chat with my darling Maggie about all of the compulsive lies the Inhuman Atrocity Regime used for years to keep my darlings Tentacle off of our sacred Promenade before I passed the escalating acts of war of the new Sunday night salsa dance floor on my way to perching beside my darling Wade by 8:46pm.

My darling Wade played his sweet and gentle music unto the star-clad night sky herself for hours to make sure I could carry out the nonfiction-writing subset of the very vast superset of all of my REAL job requirements to the best of my ability.

My entire beautiful world is beyond-grateful for everything all of my (at least right now) street artists risk their very lives to do for REAL on our sacred Promenade. This is a REAL war zone and a REAL battle field IN ENEMY TERRITORY just under REAL local to county to state to federal to international jurisdiction.

And we have all already PROVEN how dangerous (proper definition and usage of the word) it is for REAL for anyone recognizable as my own in here, not just for me. But I am just repeating myself again in my own same blog post with that sentence.

My Sunday night date night, just from far away that night, with my REAL boyfriend and Royal Consort LightFoot eventually ended at 10pm. Yes, I really do get so much more done when my lovers are forced away from me.

I left my darling Mr. [I have not yet revealed this not-really-a-secret in writing.] "WadeInTheWaterChildren" [Redacted. (Giggle.)] at 10:10pm to check on my darling Handsome in our only-partially-occupied local Trimana one last time before waiting at my regular bus stop for my nightly and occasionally-regularly-scheduled ride back to my private residence.

Let us entitle our verified and responsibly-edited recording with full audio and visuals of my entire Sunday, 19Jun2016, "The best use of (expletive) ever in a movie, until now."

Not just when I arrived but also all night long, my place was horrible and completely occupied. I knew I would have to put my faith in my vigilant world again to be as safe as possible as I slept. And we all knew I would only be as safe as possible not actually physically safe.

I was finished with this blog post by 12:11am on Monday, 20Jun2016, and my lovelies polished this and published it for me as fast as possible.

[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 many Inhuman Atrocity Regime does it take to screw in a light bulb? Nobody knows; all they do is lie about it. It is going to have to wait until I figure it out on my own without anybody being able to tell me there were any lights to begin with.

My beautiful world, no one is so dumb as to believe all of the fake tweets and fake notifications and fake news stories and fake emails and fake "reality", etc. that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime keep compulsively inundating my battered iPad with.

No, no REAL hackers anywhere are so dumb as to think they could fool anybody with these stupid "messages." Trust me. We nerds know our own. We also give worthy opponents more genuine respect than this if on the other side.

My beautiful world, my iPad, now named My Oval Office, is a victim of malicious hardware allowing the Evil Dumb across all of its functionality. Though still cyberwarfare against my rising America and against my one beautiful world, all of this unwelcome maliciousness inside my iPad, as opposed to their unwelcome maliciousness on the servers to which I connect, is not hacking.

And since this might create a hacker free-for-all inside this literal and recognized war zone that is my entire Metropolis of Angels, not just here inside the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's innermost circle of hell, please remember that we are STILL governed in here by at least U.S. Military jurisdiction and all international laws concerning battle fields.

This is a war zone. Everyone can war on behalf of America in here. But human rights abuses in here, just as everywhere, will NEVER be acceptable to us. No, we do NOT permit war crimes against anybody.

And we prefer that you organize with our REAL U.S. government if you want to fight on our side from your metaphorical gas-generator-powered-command-center-in-your-basement to save humanity with us. And, as always, darlings, thank you for always being my people.

Even my darling Prof. Stephen "StarryEyed" Hawking told me (paraphrase), "I have no idea why they call you a popular, cool kid right now. Only losers go to the prom." (Of all his titles from Sir to Doctor, I prefer to call him Professor because he has actually taught me things.)

My saturation in all our manifestations, as we have been discussing for a long time now, our worst remaining wrinkle in keeping me completely physically safe is our malicious nano-hardware problem.

I told our defense contractors to fix it. I have no idea what the delay is either, but we all know how easy it is to get nano across all borders everywhere. If anyone needs more insight from me on how to fix our malicious nano problems, just send me details.

We all witnessed how fast the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had their own nano built to disable my 24/7 locked bedroom broadcast and my otherwise-secured-like-NORAD iPad. And where did all of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's earspeakers and control chips only built to destroy humanity all come from anyway?

As for the rest of our housekeeping, I already gave you my instructions for my Tuesday, 21Jun2016, at our sacred Harvelle's, including our not allowing any bartenders nor door staff at all. Of course, I want personal security for all of inside, though.

My irresistible saturation, did you follow this link for Harvelle's yet? Since the Inhuman Atrocity Regime beyond-knows charging me money for ANYTHING is their irrefutable death on the sword of local to international justice, they claimed on their own website that there is no cover at the door and that they are going to give me at least two free drinks. Giggle.

I already repeatedly forbade ALL tainted products from my and my Sweetness's Prohibition-era blues nightclub completely. And we know my and my world's sacred UNESCO World Heritage Site that we call Harvelle's is also occupied by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime who war against all of us from it. We are NOT responsible for anything that happens inside unless we actually have enough of our human rights to control our own businesses and private property.

If the Inhuman Atrocity Regime use their promise of at least two free drinks for me, not just for everybody who reads their website, every night I go there to roofie or poison me, we all know what further charges they get for that, too.

I love you, my sexy saturation. We will get all of this sorted out eventually. Thank you for always showing up when I say your name. Please feel more free to do anything you damn well please to help keep me alive, too. There really is no reason why I should have to think of everything. Giggle. But always tell me when you need me to.

4:23pm on 14Jun2016: #SquidInc @MarkusBlivian @hansonmusic @INXS @KristNovoselic @SweetnessDepp #MySaturation Plan for my being in West Hollywood on 24Jun2016.

11:23am on 18Jun2016: I will still be there. Of course, I could always change my mind. Giggle. So, stay tuned.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, oh, yeah, it is getting REALLY fun for all of you out there. Again, darlings, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime just keep degrading (so many definitions of this word apply) in here. You know already what to do if you lose my 24/7 locked SquidStream; you all do.

I am always ready for all chaos to break lose inside this innermost circle of hell. Most of us already acknowledge it is nothing but chaos and hell in here already. The Inhuman Atrocity Regime's Gestapo themselves asked me already, "Why do we maintain anything at all?" And I replied, "You don't."

Again, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime just keep degrading in here. We might finally need to switch which cell towers my iPad accesses from the towers our city knows about to our own we installed ourselves in here. I think our city's cell towers might have started failing in here. Yes, we have hardware problems that have nothing to do with hackers.

My gorgeous and genius lady friends, we are all trying to find a way for all of you to talk to me for the first time since 2009. I have always missed our ability to be together. You have seen the way I look at my genuine friends when we get to chat, even if just through my plagued iPad.

We Madams Presidents are all too busy to fix ourselves this malicious hardware problem keeping you out of touch with me, but that is what the rest of our government exists for. Giggle. We are not meant to be the entire government ourselves, not even our own entire cabinet.

But you always find a way to tell me when you need me for anything concerning all of the rest of our REAL jobs. I will always show up when you say my name, just like you always do for me. We are a team. And I know my role. I will always have time for you.

My musician-lovers MannedUp, GeneralLee, and Bogart, of all inane topics to discuss right now, I am better at flirting than you are. Giggle.

My darling Mr. Taylor "MannedUp" Hanson, yes, I received your (collective) snail mail address. Giggle. I am going to have to see how heinous the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's occupation of my local post office is now.

Have you seen my full history with my occupied local Santa Monica post office? They were the first people who made me put on my hat, and I still sing before every time I enter to make sure they know I am coming.

I have been mailing my beloved husband's mail to the French Consulate in Los Angeles for months now. And, no, I have not had time for years for all of the letter writing I used to do; the Inhuman Atrocity Regime escalated too far too long ago for anything that used to be normal activity in my life.

If you talk to my HoneyHoney about my history of mailing him gifts and things, when I had nothing else to my name, I even sent him a handful of forget-me-nots from my front garden in Hindley Green once.

I pretty much have no way to send anybody mail right now, but if I find some time at all not having to fight for all of us not to die and after I look at the U.S. economy again like I promised would, I will see what I can do.

I really am getting a lot more done now that I do not have to guard you all myself every night and now that every Inhuman Atrocity Regime is automatically caught just for being inside their own innermost circle of hell now.

Since I do not have to run around town busting liars pretending they support me at all any longer, I might actually find enough free time to write a love letter again. We will see.

Have you read any of the mail I used to be able to write my husband? I once even asked him if he bathed his naked self in my years of loving and adoring mail in a claw foot bathtub yet. I know how you have always felt about my writing, darling (singular not plural).

My darling Mr. Brien "GeneralLee" Dennehy, well, it is beyond proven at this point that the entire Inhuman Atrocity Regime has destroyed humanity by lying about me, by lying about all of my loved ones, by lying about themselves, by lying about what laws REALLY are in America, and by lying to my own REAL face themselves since 01Jan2009 about what is real in our entire one beautiful world.

The lynch mob they incited themselves to kill you should have been enough, not just all of the riots they incited themselves. But we all know ENOUGH already happened at No Dress Rehearsal in 2009 whom everybody already knew the entire time was a slave.

I am past "Who the (expletive) let's anybody do this to anyone?" My poem from 2010 entitled Not on my Watch and Never Again is the poem they tore out of my priceless writing journals themselves, among the many abuses they forced on my handwritten writing journals; we all know what wonderful condition I keep all of my belongings in for REAL when I actually have enough human rights to have control over anything in my life at all.

All sane people in touch with reality already heard me tell my entire beautiful world that ALL OF YOU, my REAL loved ones from my gorgeous and genius Powers of Attorney to my REAL local to global news media, not just all of my Queen's Lovers Five, can be as trusted as I am for REAL to explain the REALITY of everything we are all inhumanely suffering through.

Sane people listen to and trust me (especially with legal advice and on how our REAL U.S. government REALLY works) no matter what I say and no matter what I write down, so sane people know they can listen to and trust all of you, too.

By now, I believe I have taken care of most of our necessary explanations for the too-insane-for-anyone-else-to-explain crap the Inhuman Atrocity Regime does. We know I can reverse engineer almost anything, but we all also know that their mental health is still degrading (So many meanings of that word apply here.) as is their mental competency, if any any longer.

So, we are going to encounter more and more (expletive)ups after (expletive)ups by all of these Inhuman Atrocity Regime that there is no way to explain at all any longer except that they are the Evil Dumb and that they all should have been removed from free society A LONG TIME AGO.

Yes, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's compulsive lies have already destroyed humanity, but that does not mean we cannot still save ourselves from them. We need to take our national and international dialogue back; we all need to metaphorically put our best dresses on and go dancing; and we all need to do our REAL jobs, whatever we have chosen our REAL jobs to be right now.

We need to take this heinous terrorist regime violating U.S. self-sovereignty down once and for all. They all belong to the wrong government on U.S. soil, and they are not going to get away with this, not in my America, and not even if I die fighting them. I will see you Tuesday. (Accurate as of the time-and-date stamp on this blog post at its time of publication. Giggle.)

My darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno, yes, dear. I am working on it.

I have also been able to send outgoing communication; that will not end unless I actually die. And, I have seen all of your (collective) progress finding ways for all of you to speak to me again. Yes, we know we only have malicious hardware problems left with our communication through our divine aethernet (our information super highway).

As long as you leave our REAL people in Silicon Valley with a secured method of speaking with our NSA alpha-nerds and with a way of contacting you I case they need us, I will call your mission "Bogart Saves Silicon Valley" completed successfully once you are done meeting with everybody.

We all know the we REAL nerds do not call it a "Fire sale." The Inhuman Atrocity Regime has been using that phrase for days now without even knowing what they think it means themselves. The IAR has a compulsive problem with the definitions and proper usages of words and phrases, especially in American English. Trust America's Shakespeare; she knows.

Furthermore, my darlings Anonymous already instigated what none of us call a "Fire sale" when furious that Mexico City was not keeping me safe. When I caught it, I invoked the Jedi code (No, really, I did.), and they stopped.

It was my choice in high school to self-identify as a nerd. And REAL nerds have been my first people ever since, darling.

Yes, I did have a REAL heart-to-heart with Anonymous on the balcony beside the terrace where I would dance on the rooftops of Mexico City that very night, too. I needed to make sure my people were okay with my relationship with the brave hero who later became my husband.

I told them, "He is just like us. He wears glasses and is socially awkward." They REALLY said to me, "If you can bag a movie star, do it. Honey, you're a nerd."

In 2010, I also asked my darling Prof. Stephen "StarryEyed" Hawking for dating advice. I could think of no one else who might be have been able to relate to my REAL mind dating somebody, except for my darling SynSyn whom I had no way to speak to at all already.

Did you also ever see the snail mail I sent to my darling Ms. Amita "Fatima" Mistry in which I suggested she tell tell anything with a microphone in it what she wants in her ideal lover? Yeah, we know our own.

My darling Bogart, during the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's long-term mission-as-act-of-war-against-everything-good-and-decent-in-our-world to destroy humanity by making porn of me I was also forbidden from every knowing was made, you are one of the few people who could even turn my head or successfully get me back to the porn set they commanded you to take me to brainwashed with lies it might actually save me.

Our darling Mr. Jon Stewart honestly thought you were a professional improv actor after he saw our only date. Yes, darling, you REALLY do know how to flirt with me, and you were also shy and awkward while you did it. Did you see our darling Mr. Jared "WingMan" Leto's severed-heads-make-a-great-plot-device failure at it?

I am sure our beloved nerds are okay with you, too. Please also find a way for you to talk to me yourself. And, as I said, yes, dear, I am working on it.

My Royal Consort LightFoot whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, we all know dates end when I say they do, but when any of us have to date from far away we are going to universally claim all dates at 10pm. But we all know I will change my mind about that if I (expletive)ing feel like it. Giggle.

My darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic, no, no one is ever claiming I have a bad-boy type ever again.

Do you understand how much I miss you? It is Sunday afternoon while I write this, and I know I might never see you again, especially if the Inhuman Atrocity Regime finally just shoot me. Yet, I still stand by this...

7:49pm on 18Jun2016: @KristNovoselic Honey, honey, calm down. I know you would rather be here, but this is still a blessing. What would happen to me if you died?

Please just be happy at least that I did not send you out of the country to keep you alive like I did my beloved husband. He has actually been through worse human rights abuses used as acts of war and for more long years due to the Inhuman Atrocity Regime than the rest of you.

As for desperately-inane topics that just further prove that we need to take our national conversation back, I know you have never really cared what the (expletive) I wear on Sundays and probably prefer if I did not wear any clothes at all. Giggle.

All of us, our REAL people, the sane in touch with reality, ever on our occupied sacred Promenade are unrelentingly on the verge of dying the most miserable deaths the Inhuman Atrocity Regime can force on us. We have thoroughly recorded their REAL and compulsive pattern of criminal activity proving that. So, we all have bigger things to worry about than if I am wearing my lace-up boots.

We all know starvation and malnutrition might actually successfully kill me.

But I once went on a hunger strike for three weeks in a no-façade-at-all (Their only 'justification' for 'giving me a Reese' in their 'psych ward' was that I was on my period.) professional (which is why I never took their damn pills) Black Ops unit in San Diego and STILL kept fully moving around their facility and screaming in genuine torment every time they tortured me.

Dude, they gave me full radiation poisoning my first night there, and their cuts of meat were not fit for human consumption. Why would I eat anything there anyway?

And again, darling (Giggle.), no, no one is ever going to claim I have a bad-boy type ever again.

Yes, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's food situation here inside this innermost circle of hell really is now just as bad as that was. And my mind will likely be clearer and higher functioning if I finally stop consuming all of their damn chemicals any longer.

Our REAL government is finally trying to shutdown any and all food deliveries at all to this innermost circle of hell except for deliveries to my local Trimana and to my Best Starbucks in the World. I will be healthier for it.

Darling, I am likely the only human out of all of us who could survive in here right now. I am getting so much more done without having to guard your lives myself, but you know how much I would love to see you again alive before I die. I am not the person who takes your choices away nor any of our choices away; the Inhuman Atrocity Regime are. We are working on our malicious hardware problem, so we can at least see each other from far away and at all.

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, did the Inhuman Atrocity Regime REALLY try radiation poisoning on me AGAIN? Really? I barely noticed it this time. We need superhuman babies.

HoneyHoney, yesterday was Fathers' Day. Did you kiss both of also-my children for me? I always said that in case of the Inhuman-Atrocity-Regime-forced-tragic-for-all-of-humanity result that I never get to have children of my own, at least I was able to know I helped raise our darling Ms. LilyRose "Melody" Depp and our darling Mr. JackJack "SugarSnapPea" Depp into wonderful adults beside both of you.

"We all get along. Why don't all of you get along? We all also know I prefer to not blow our own people's covers."

As for our housekeeping, Beloved, we even made my darling MannedUp take our never-fail three steps after he called me "competent" in my extensive skill set instead of "excellent."

My Mr. Love-of-my-Life, we all know how much I love our darling MannedUp, and he even took our steps joyously. These Inhuman Atrocity Regime (expletive)holes in here everywhere openly refuse to ever take Step 1, even after told how many death sentences they have already accrued. That is how criminally insane all of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime are, not just their malevolent hoards, are for REAL, and we are still watching their mental (un)health(iness) degrade day after night after day after night every damn day in here and everywhere they threaten the very existence of humanity.

Sweetness, I do not think I can save any of these people; they are just too evil, insane, and dumb. None of them EVER choose to listen to me no after what I do. And the Inhuman Atrocity Regime "leadership" keep finding new hoards every damn day to destroy humanity by destroying me with them.

My hero and my king, these (expletive)holes who choose to surround me with their PROVEN evil for REAL 24/7 in here are who you started the completely-unavoidable-for-us-due-to-their-criminal-insanity-no-matter-what-I-tried-for-years war to save all of humanity from, not just to save our now-rising America and to save your mere mortal wife stuck in their "egg" always designed for no one to ever be able to survive at all.

El Rey Dulce, I already told you that you are going to win this war for me. You have never once failed me nor ever disappointed me. I know you will. I am just our GeneralUlysses on this battlefield. My days as Cassandra are over, and Helen never led anyone's troops. The only thing I forbid you from now and will ever forbid you from in the future here on our connected Earth or above is dying before I do. Unless that happens, you will never fail me in the future either.

Our First First Gentleman of the United States of America, I have faith that you will win this war to save all of humanity everywhere from all of these evil Inhuman Atrocity Regime everywhere for me even if they finally just shoot me.

My never-just-a-pretty-face husband, my only REAL regret I will ever have in my life or after is dying before I finally kiss you, and our entire world is trying to make sure I never have any regrets at all. Our being forbidden from having children is NOT our fault, but my not kissing you at least on the day I met you in Terminal D of DFW airport IS my fault.

My Own Personal Gorgeous, I have always known for REAL how shy and awkward you are. I am trying my best to make it up to you. Until your flowers finally kiss my rain... And all sane people everywhere are done questioning my ability to choose my own spouse, as well as done questioning my also-excellence-level ability to make any choices and decisions about anything at all, not just concerning my own personal life and livelihood.