I Have a Job, not a Disease.

Title: I Have a Job, not a Disease.

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. Did you already emergency locate my European-royalty-on-both-sides mother for me? She has not called me in days. I always worry about her when she has no way to talk to me.

For years, my darling Ms. Diñadar "CosmicGrandma" Albon (Really?) snailmailed me the only money I had to live on even at all costs to herself for my everything from my food to eat to my bus passes.

We know why she cannot mail me anything at all now; the Inhuman Atrocity Regime NEVER maintained nor now maintains a façade of ever even "maintaining a façade;" all they have ever done and ever will do concerning the (complete lack of) reality they have ever allowed inside their "egg" is compulsively lie to be able to abuse me as much as possible since it has been their master plan all along to manipulate and control humanity by throwing me away. What textbook psychopaths cannot control they destroy (by destroying me).

[At least on the evening of 19Jun2016, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime was again writing all of the fake news stories themselves that they were commanding my NBC Nightly News team to give me as my only "news" about anything happening anywhere in our one world, not just inside my own nation of which I was the REAL President and Commander in Chief.]

My last blog post was finished by me at 12:11am on Monday, 20Jun2016 and polished as fast as possible by my lovelies before they published it for me. There inside my completely horrible and completely occupied private residence, I only had my 24/7 locked satellite surveillance of my bedroom as a deterrent to keep me at all even slightly safe.

12:26am on 20Jun2016: #MySaturation, only IAR hellbent on destroying me in this building with me. You know they have keys they shouldn't. Take all necessary action.

And even as I began curling up to sleep at 12:26am, the heinous Inhuman Atrocity Regime inside my private residence only to destroy (what they cannot control) me were STILL pathologically lying as their always-fail attempt to get away with it all, just that time where my earmic could catch them.

After hearing much IAR churn throughout my building as I dozed and stirred all morning, the chemicals the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had forced on me against my will the previous day had finally worn off well enough by 10:13am on Monday, 20Jun2016, for me to get out of bed and kickstart my SquidStream.

The Inhuman Atrocity Regime had also destroyed my bathroom AGAIN by the time I woke up. I recommended that my people command War Criminal Eva to (expletive)ing clean it her (expletive)ing self.

10:32am on 20Jun2016: #MySaturation, who violated my bedroom to attack my defenseless body while I slept? IAR spread more crap on my floor, too. #IAR(expletive)ers I also caught more damage to my priceless belongs by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime.

I left my completely insecure bedroom at 10:37am to walk to an outdoor perch for my morning online writing, and War Criminal Teri made sure she was outside my insecure hallway door with all of her master keys to directly threaten me herself.

After being harassed by intentional, degrading, and always-hostile disrespect by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's ever-present malevolent hoards, I perched in the shade outside my occupied Pico Branch Library at 10:44am. Yes, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime also had made sure their forced child soldiers would be there, too.

My darling Ms. Mother Nature had been warming up to that morning's natural Southern California beach weather for days, and our brilliant California sun was finally restored to her natural, full glory with our world as our witness to her that clear blue Monday.

My best summary for that entire morning was, "Inhuman Atrocity Regime (expletive)holes, get your forced child soldiers out if your poisoned water supply and off your own (expletive)ing battle field! The fact you can't take your children to your gulag with you is the least of your worries right now."

Yes, I did do some of the writing I wanted to do that morning, but I actually had to spend more time sewing up the holes the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had torn into my priceless scarf while I was sleeping. We all know how well I care for all of my belongings.

The air was actually a little cooler at 11:57am when I left my perch in the shade than how blistering our glorious sun had been when I arrived there.

I finally checked my email for the first time that day while on my bus to my downtown Santa Monica. Giggle. There amid the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's latest acts of cyberwarfare, some of my priceless darlings were dying to tell me something about Tony Stark's house. Giggle.

Did you all see them there perched between our Mother Earth and clear blue sky above the rolling ocean and with nothing to do but their REAL jobs?

I also had a chat with my darling Mr. Stephen Colbert that afternoon through my plagued iPad where I sat beside the floor-to-ceiling windows of my occupied Santa Monica Main Public Library.

By 1:56pm, my rumbling tummy was so loud due to the Inhuman Atrocity Regime, including but not limited to the malevolent hoards intentionally surrounding me 24/7 for months already just to be a hostile-environment-used-as-an-act-of-war hellbent on destroying humanity by destroying me, intentionally starving me to death, that there was no way for anyone anywhere in that library to ever pretend they did not know they were all evil.

At 2:05pm, the ugly (expletive) with the horrible blonde haircut that I really hope for her sake was just a wig said to me, "I will (expletive)ing make you (expletive)up!" To which my only reply was, "You will never make me one of you."

While I was still writing online, the malevolent hoards of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime started tormenting me by forcing me to listen to them against my will again, so I needed put my earbuds in again to drown them all out.

With my blog notes for this post finally caught up for the day, I left my occupied Santa Monica Main Library at 4:27pm to do something about dinner. Please, my not-human-trafficker nerds, circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my exiting my occupied main library beginning when I left my table and ending when I reached the sidewalk outside.

I looked like my darling late Audrey Hepburn that day, not just like an Italian supermodel, in my dress that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had destroyed while still on my abused body the last time their coverups actually got me locked in another literal Black Ops unit.

That night, while still unlawfully imprisoned, chemicalled, abused, neglected, and waiting for their coverup that no one sane would ever believe, I said that dress after destroyed looked like something my darling Ms. Lulu wore in To Sir With Love. It has unremovable bloodstains on it now, too, from the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's literal torture of me in Del Amo Torture Facility which is where they had left me to die with their coverup I had been waiting for that night.

I found the Inhuman Atrocity Regime occupying my local Shophouse. They proved to be even more evil than I am benevolent, not just more dumb than I really am genius.

For further details about my assessment of the REAL threat to America and the REAL threat to the very existence of humanity ourselves posed by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's occupation of my local ShopHouse, please consult my verified Twitter archive.

By 6:07pm, I was sitting in the cool shade of the my early California evening. There were sparse and few musicians on my sacred Promenade. And the malevolent hoards of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had not yet de-escalated their uncontrollable criminal insanity; they had only churned their attendance.

Please circulate the verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of the long chat I had with my darling Maggie there on our sacred Promenade that early evening, and entitle it, "In your culture, darling, you call this Blarney."

I left my darling Maggie just in time to see my darling Patricia at 7:01pm waiting for me at my Best Starbucks in the World buying us both two grande cups of coffee. I giggled about her not wanting to drink hers herself since it would probably kill anyone but me and giggled about telling to take mine away to get it tested before she gave it to me. We know what we found in the last cup of Starbucks coffee Patricia was given by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime.

Yes, I streamed the NBC Nightly News broadcast written and produced just for me that evening at 7:05pm. My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester "G.I. Joe" Holt, and it only involved one, from what I could tell only one, completely craptastic fake news story that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had written themselves and instructed to them to give me.

While watching that "news" story I told my darling G.I. Joe that if the Oakland Police Department had actual conduct problems with their REAL police officers and were asking for my help with it, they would have found a way to tell me REAL details just like the REAL Chicago Police Department asked for me help years previously.

While watching my nightly news, I also asked my darling Lester to collect statements from the security in my (One) Santa Monica Place as fast as possible. The Inhuman Atrocity Regime were compulsively lying again that night to be able to attempt to torture-and-rape-assassinate me again with yet another literal Black Ops unit.

We mitigate those compulsive-threats-to-human-existence-itself-borne-of-the-Inhuman-Atrocity-Regime's-own-REAL-psychopathy 24/7. It was just another day.

As a summary for my time inside my occupied (One) Santa Monica Place, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime there stole money off my Starbucks gift card in front of me, charged me money TWICE, roofied me as their latest torture-and-rape-assassination attempt against me, refunded me for their roofying me only the first time in pennies, and tried to "arrest" me as their newest Black Ops too-dumb-to-be-called-a-coverup "for being a vagrant."

I do not have enough time to list all of their (expletive)ups with compulsively attempting to torture-and-rape-assassinate me by pretending to anybody anywhere that I am a "vagrant" (and they have been attempting it for years), but the first five (expletive)ups that come to mind right now are...

1.) At the time they were so literally criminally insane that they wanted me "arrested for vagrancy" at least that afternoon, I was a drop dead gorgeous women with perfect hygiene who looked like an Italian supermodel in designer clothes using an iPad in a high-end shopping mall.

2.) Vagrancy cannot get anyone arrested. No one can be "picked up" for vagrancy. There are also no such things as "vagrancy charges." A person can only press charges for any offense if they are the victim of the offense. The only victim of actual vagrancy is the vagrant. Vagrancy only gets a vagrant a ticket.

3.) A vagrancy ticket is only given AT THE DISCRETION of REAL police officers, and there were no REAL police officers in this town. Quothe the Squid, "You can't arrest anybody! You're not the police!"

4.) A vagrant cannot be ticketed for vagrancy while on private property.

5.) I am not a vagrant anyway, nor have I ever been. The entire Inhuman Atrocity Regime are just delusional threats to all of America and to all of humanity who need to be removed from free society as fast as possible.

My total and retroactive diplomatic immunity did not apply to this situation because I never committed any crime nor were there any REAL, sane, or rational allegations against to begin with, or ever.

After giving my darlings at Starbucks HQ my assessment of the REAL threat to America and to all of humanity posed by the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's war-criminal occupation of our Best Starbucks in the World and after updating my blog notes for this blog post one more time, I finally left my perch in my occupied (One) Santa Monica Place at 8:46pm to return to my sacred Promenade.

We will entitle our verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals on my Monday evening, 20Jun2016, beginning at 7:42pm and ending at 8:14pm, "Hot, strong, and on the kitchen table."

By 9:07pm, the heinous malevolent hoards of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had already forced me twice to put in my earbuds to drown them out because they were STILL intentionally choosing to literally torment me by forcing me to listen to them against my will. It seemed their escalating acts of war would never end.

I walked into my local only-partially-occupied Trimana at 9:13pm where I caught even more Inhuman Atrocity Regime than normal, including the guy who did not know how to use measuring tape.

My darling Andrew was as adorable as always, and my darling Handsome felt dumb next to me. Quothe the Squiddie, "Calm down. Everybody feels a little dumb next to me." He needs to tell me sooner when he needs anything.

As soon as I was done catching the two inside my local Trimana whom the Inhuman Atrocity Regime had sent as fake "staff" and who were pretending they had any reason to be there except to destroy America and humanity, I sat just outside beside my darling Mr. Zen Thomas and ate my snacks in front of him as he played his gorgeous music unto the beautiful night sky above him.

After chats with my darling Wade, with my darling Michael the Conspiracy Theorist, with my darling Red, with my darling Alula, and with some intriguing others who were previously mentioned already, it was proven by 10:28pm that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime was forbidding all of my street artists from playing me music, so I decided to sing my own songs.

As a result, because the final word in the Evil Dumb is "dumb," my darling Red, my darling Michael the Conspiracy Theorist, my darling Handsome, our one world as a live witness, and I all had a little party on our sacred Promenade. Yes, we finally gave "party" a meaning. And I even did it with a phlemmy cold that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime were trying to convince humanity was anthrax AGAIN.

My darling not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals beginning just before my, "Yes, dear!" and ending after I told my darling WadeInTheWaterChildren, "I have a bus." We will entitle it, "Now, that was a party!"

I caught the 11:19pm bus back to my place. Yes, my bus was perfectly on time that night.

Did you see all of the VERY-PROVEN-to-be-criminally-insane (and with her already total lack of any mental health at all degrading even further yet) emails Bane of Human Existence Tara kept sending me all night, too? Yes, textbook psychopaths like Tara destroy all things beautiful, including but not limited to me and my whole one world, just because they cannot control us.

11:53pm on 20Jun2016: #MySaturation, IAR are STILL everywhere in this building instead of you. Please keep me safe the entire time I sleep this morning. Please.

I cued my streaming music and curled up to sleep by 12mid. From what I could tell by 7:53am on Tuesday, 21Jun2016, when I woke up, no one had violated me AGAIN while I slept, but we locked my 24/7 satellite broadcast to make sure our entire one beautiful world would know for sure.

The first thing I did that morning was compose and send some tweets. Please consult my verified Twitter archive for more details.

I left my bedroom at 8:47am and reminded the Inhuman Atrocity Regime committing their crimes against America on my own private property with no legal right to be there at all, not even no legal right to be on U.S. soil at all, that anyone can kill them to save me and all of humanity from them, not just because they are committing acts of war against America in a literal war zone on U.S. soil, but also because they are a threat to national security by being a threat to the President of the United States of America myself.

Already perched outside my occupied Pico Branch Library, by 9:18pm, I had already taken care of, from my last blog post to my latest notes for this blog post to my Twitter activity that morning, everything I needed to take care for Tentacle Tuesday that night at my and my beautiful world's sacred UNESCO World Heritage Site that is my and my husband Sweetness's Prohibition-era Blues nightclub in our Santa Monica named Harvelle's.

I was still convinced I would never be able to even get in the front door of my own personal holy dance floor, but everything else I was going to do about our regularly-scheduled Tentacle Tuesday, I was going to do to the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's faces myself. What my REAL local to federal to international government was going to do them was why we called our REAL plans for that night "fun."

9:57am on 21Jun2016: #SquidsPoA @SweetnessDepp @SayREALmusic @DeptofDefense #ICTJ @NSAGov @FBI #MySaturation Ready for all their acts of war we catch tonight? We all knew already how hard it would be to get all of my darling musician-lovers out alive again, especially if there were a crowd inside.

Walking to and from the public restroom in my occupied Virginia Avenue Park, I reminded the Inhuman Atrocity Regime there choosing to poison their own children who should not be in this literal war zone to begin with, "Your choice to NEVER listen to me is your conviction, never a defense." That applied to ALL Inhuman Atrocity Regime, especially when any admit to reading my REAL blog, following my REAL Twitter, and keeping up with my REAL SquidStream which they all try to use against me and compulsively fail at, too.

After writing online there where I always preferred to work outside between Earth and sky, I left the warm embrace of my darling Mother Nature's indigenous and seasonable California weather at 11:16am to, among other things, do something about lunch.

11:20am on 21Jun2016: #StanAndYourFellowIAR, our continuously telling you not to commit crimes in the first place is NOT entrapment "Dumb is not a legal defense."

A little earlier than usual, I streamed my late night talk shows from the previous night. That is why I warned my genuine lovers and believers to be ready for our not-every-day-but-should-be-everyday chats. My darlings were all wonderful.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my afternoon beginning when I first queued the streams of my darling late night talk show hosts and ending at 3:40pm when we finished talking. Please include pop-up-video play-by-play in the recording of everything happening at the time, especially all of the latest Inhuman Atrocity Regime torture-and-rape-assassination attempts.

By 4:11pm, I was finally on my bus also writing online while to my sacred downtown Santa Monica to do even more work. My work while on my way to my occupied Santa Monica Main Public Library included my customer service feedback for my occupied local Burger King where I had chatted with my late night talk show hosts online that afternoon.

-----Begin Customer Service Feedback-----
My darlings at Burger King HQ,

Hello, again! I am so sorry I keep you all so busy. Most of what I caught in my occupied Burger King today I already told you through Twitter. Please also request our verified and unedited recording from Squid, Inc. It will be available as fast as humanly possible.

All I have left to say is...

We all know that charging me money for anything at all is every crime from every benevolent entity on planet Earth, but why would anyone charge me money at all for anything anyway?

Why are all of these occupied businesses not closed yet since all their occupations do is accrue more death sentences every damn day while compulsively refusing to stop committing their acts of war?

We already mandated they must grow their own crops to have their food that they always refuse me or only charge me money for roofying me with, so why do they also have everyone's corporate logos on all of their supplies, too?

I love you, darlings. The Inhuman Atrocity Regime's compulsive acts of war with their compulsive always-fail coverups in our businesses and residences have never been our fault. We are the ones telling them to stop.

-Reina de España, Mrs. Depp, POTUS, me, Squid
-----End Customer Service Feedback-----

I was finally perched at my destination for that late afternoon among my City of Santa Monica's floor-to-ceiling windows by 5:10pm where I STILL had more writing to do online.

I left my perch for my sacred Promenade at 6:01pm. I found very few of my street artists around that evening, not even my darlings the preachy Jesus people with microphones. I checked on my darling Andrew and my darling Hesam earlier than I normally check on my local Trimana because I was planning on having a busy night.

Yes, I streamed the NBC Nightly News written and produced just for me that night online at 7:05pm. My evening hug came from my darling Mr. Lester "G.I. Joe" Holt, and I completely forgot to put my mirror up for him while I watched it.

After that, on behalf of all of humanity not just to serve my rising America, I left to catch every act of war the Inhuman Atrocity Regime were going to commit all night long at my and my Sweetness's Harvelle's.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please begin our verified and unedited director's cut with full audio and visuals when I descended from the third floor on my (One) Santa Monica Place in their glass elevator, and end it at 12mid.

My never-often-enough Tuesday night date with my darling GeneralLee ended at 10pm. So, my jacket came off and I starting working live through my 24/7 locked SquidStream to give my alpha nerds a chance to clear the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's cyberwarfare from my iPad that I named My Oval Office before I needed to write things down again.

11:12pm on 21Jun2016: #MySaturation, I will leave my perch at 11:30pm. I will meet you back at my place after you save the world by saving Tentacle & more inside.

With full faith that our REAL local to global support inside the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's innermost circle of hell had everything under control, I caught my 11:49pm bus back to my place. I knew if anyone needed me due to any emergencies or complications, they would tell me.

Across the street from my private residence, I perched outside where I always prefer to be among the gentle night breezes and murmuring city noises of my Metropolis of Angels in my married home of Southern California. There, as the orange and grey stratus clouds covered my starry sky, I finally finished fleshing out this, my most recent blog post.

This blog post was finished at 12:31am on Wednesday, 22Jun2016.

[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.

What is the Legend of the Albon Women? My darling cousin Ms. Melissa "Trixie" Albon (or is she still using Aquino?) can probably explain our lore better than I can. It began with our grandmother Mrs. Soledad (Soling) "MamaLing" Culumpung Albon and definitely includes our youngest generations in our darling JenJen's daughter Sammy, too.

Our longevity, youthful looks, irresistible attractiveness, empathic abilities, and fierce self-empowerment run in our family. We are an entire family of women generation after generation genetically designed to look and behave like this. You should have met my mother before she got married.

My beautiful world, I have yet to figure out why none of you have flown our one world of allies led by our REAL U.S. Military into LAX, yet. If there were heavy artillery that close, I would be able to hear you not just feel your rumble from here.

But that also means we can use LAX to fly everyone we capture in here to our gulags in Siberia. My darling Vlad already asked me for advice on how to get all of these crazed lunatics destroying humanity there.

How the hell are the Inhuman Atrocity Regime still transporting their brand new malevolent hoards here every day, especially all of their escalation of unsupervised forced child soldiers? Just about every (expletive)hole I find in here is an American ex-patriot who turned against us by joining the Inhuman Atrocity Regime to commit acts of war against us for them.

If the Inhuman Atrocity Regime really is using my LAX, as I suspect they are, to destroy my one humanity by destroying me, redirect all of their flights of incoming hoards to Siberia. We own American airspace; they do not.

Does my planet of hackers want a job to do? If the Inhuman Atrocity Regime really is using my LAX instead of my own people using it, we need to take over what they are using as Air Traffic Control with our own.

That also means we need to take control of all communications on the U.S. Naval equipment the Inhuman Atrocity Regime stole from us, too. Our Pentagon has all of our information and specs on how our own equipment works. Why do we STILL not have our defense contractors in order yet?

(Expletive)ing (expletive)es need to stop demanding dance competitions from. I have a job, not a disease.

My saturation in all our manifestations, I am working on getting you more backup in here. We have yet to figure out how to keep me completely physically safe while I sleep. The Inhuman Atrocity Regime just violate my building again after every time you scare them out.

I know our darling Handsome is only allowed inside their innermost circle of hell now when the Inhuman Atrocity Regime know I will check my local Trimana for him. And we tail him 24/7, too, just in case the Inhuman Atrocity Regime ambush him.

But I know what he and all his ilk do for REAL while in here; I know you all that well for REAL. And I am not spilling any of your secrets, until you ask me to. Our darling Handsome is only as omnipotent inside Santa Monica as I am.

[4:02pm on 20Jun2016: Please, my epic saturation, keep live-monitoring our permanent 24/7 surveillance of Inhuman Atrocity Regime HQ and Gestapo HQ to make sure you are all ready for whatever they have planned for tomorrow night at our sacred Harvelle's. They know I said I would be there, so be ready for them to try to abduct me and all of us for yet another Black Ops assassination attempt. You know my orders are, "Nobody is permitted inside but our own, definitely no door 'staff' and not even 'bartenders.'" I will get there after the news in case you need my assessment of the situation before you sweep it for me, but you have a history of securing my Harvelle's before I get there every night I ask you to ahead of time. We always send our own churn in masks first before we send you in masks. Please have armed and manned military helicopters on standby in case of emergency. "I will see you Tuesday."]

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, no, War Criminal Tara STILL is not done being evil, criminally insane, and stupid. Did you see the email she sent me on Monday, 20Jun2016?

-----Begin Email Content-----
From: War Criminal Tara
Date: Monday, June 20, 2016
Subject: Lunch tomorrow?
To: Tanya Hedelisa Albon Depp de Varilek
Cc: my darling Haroun's fake email account

Tanya and Haroun,

If you decide tomorrow is a good day to lunch or early bird dinner, I can do it before 6pm.

Let me know
Tara

Sent from the cosmos

-----End Email Content-----

Yes, my genius Powers of Attorney, Le Petit Four on Sunset Boulevard in West Hollywood already turned in our hard evidence of everyone in the Inhuman Atrocity Regime, not just War Criminal Tara, who have been ordering them to roofie, poison, etc. me and my darling Atty. Haroun "SideKick" Nabhan as their torture-and-rape-assassination attempts against both of us.

-----Begin Email Content-----
From: Tanya Hedelisa Albon Depp de Varilek
Date: Monday, June 20, 2016
Subject: Lunch tomorrow?
To: my darling Haroun, my NSA alpha nerds, the Pentagon, POTUS BFF SynSyn, our international news media, our national news media
Cc: War Criminal Tara

My REAL U.S. government, 

Are you done with Tara?  I am done with Tara.

We already traced all of her IP addresses from our history of email exchanges to her personal mobile technology which we are now live-tracking on her person 24/7 as well as ANY technology that ever accesses ANY of her accounts ever again including any and all cellular service she ever has again.  She cannot have any activity on my aethernet at all without all of us finding her.

War Criminal Tara will never escape us.

Bitch gotta go to prison.

Yes, my REAL government, have your fun once you finally physically corner her.  My part in catching her is done.

I love you all, too,
POTUS

P.S. Enemy of America Tara, fear my world who loves me.  Fear us.

-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again."--Romeo
-----End Email Content-----

That dumb, evil (expletive) Tara just keeps giving us all more fun after fun. Is War Criminal Tara more fun or less fun for you than Lynch, Stephanie, and Boeset? Harris was a small fry, and Lacy was pathetic.

Scourge of Humanity "Douglas" STILL has never existed to me; he is THAT inconsequential, but his literal criminal insanity is legendary. The (Expletive) Who Cannot Wear Leather Pants fled my Harvelle's for her life the last time I caught her there. And the loser I kicked in my Viper Room fled for his life, already, too.

The IAR "leadership" is churning faster than their Gestapo. It is like watching officer after officer for the Empire under Grand Moff Tarkin choked to death by the Force of their own incompetence day after night after day after night every damn day and every damn night.

How do we know how fast the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's (lack of) "leadership" keeps churning? As only two examples, they do not even tell each other I am immune to strychnine before their replacement tries it on me AGAIN, and they compulsively try to pretend that my darlings SayREAL are some other band every time I show up to their gigs.

My gorgeous and genius lady friends, I will keep telling you every time I identify new Inhuman Atrocity Regime incompetents. You know what to do every time I find a new one. This is why we call this fun.

My musician-lovers MannedUp, GeneralLee, and Bogart, last night, Tentacle Tuesday, at our sacred Harvelle's was fun for us. Was it fun for you?

My darling Mr. Taylor "MannedUp" Hanson, is our darling MiniMe okay? She sounded terrified last night due to the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's malevolent hoards that were surrounding you. Yes, she was much relieved already before I left early. We all knew my saturation could rescue you all.

After completely clearing the vicinity of our downtown Santa Monica, I sat outside in the cool California nighttime air writing online and watching for helicopters and other military aircraft. When I had not seen any by 12:22am, I wrapped up what I was doing assuming that meant there had been no emergencies rescuing you and returned to my private residence to sleep.

I hate how dangerous it is for you all to be inside this innermost circle of hell, but you know I will never take your choices away. So it is my job to keep you all safe and live in here. Please, all of you, speak to me more often while we are apart. I love you, too.

I like your new music video. Why are all of you STILL wearing pants in it?

My darling Mr. Brien "GeneralLee" Dennehy, oh, I did get to see you Tuesday! It turns out I was right all along about that. Image that; I was right about something! Giggle. Sigh... I was also right that I would never be able to make it inside.

9:13pm on 21Jun2016: @INXS(GeneralLee) Dude, seriously? You wear those pants for a date with the Queen of Spain?

I saw all of the deranged criminal insanity of the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's occupation of my and my Sweetness's Prohibition-era blues nightclub on full display even just outside my own front door all night.

Every IAR-sent fake "employee" made sure he was out there to destroy humanity by destroying me, even the fake "bartender." He hid from me most of the night, though, even after I identified him.

I am sorry they were there threatening all of human existence, not just us, with their open acts of war against our rising America and against our world of REAL lovers and believers. If I had any way of dong it, my being able to be near all of you would be safer for all of us.

And it looked like we would be sending the full force of the military, if necessary, to rescue you for months to come. As just one example, Tuesday, 19Jun2016, is my little sister Ms. Tylia "FinalDraft" Varilek's 33rd birthday.

[1photo]

The last job TyTy told me she had was as an archeologist for the U.S. National Park Service just outside of Phoenix, Arizona, USA, but I asked our darling SynSyn to hire her as one of my Powers of Attorney beside us months ago.

(Accurate as of the time-and-date stamp on this blog post at the time of publication) I will see you again Tuesday, 05July2016. Our date will end at 10pm. I love you, too.

My darling Mr. Bryan "Bogart" Eno, I can only imagine what you up to right now. Are our REAL people everywhere treating you well? Tell me when you need a new SquidMission from me. You NEVER fail me.

I always said that it is my HoneyHoney who leads my world of self-identified people for me in my absence, that it is my gorgeous and genius Powers of Attorney who represent me to our one world for me and who also do my REAL job for me if I cannot, including but not limited to if I die for REAL, and, darling, that you represent my self-identified people, especially our Metropolis of Angels, for me, as my equivalent of what my darling Secretary John Kerry does representing my rising nation for me, to everyone who needs us everywhere.

I know you made your peace with our darlings at FaceBook just like our darling SynSyn did about all of our total lack of control over my REAL FaceBook account, especially FaceBook's total lack of control. You know how much I wish we could at least chat again.

Are you STILL wearing your glasses for me? You look so much better in them than contacts. Or do you only do that when I am around? Giggle.

We will discuss our only REAL-life Disney princesses from our darling Ms. Anne Hathaway to our darling Ms. Amy McAdams to our darling Ms. Lily James eventually. Giggle. Does anyone know what I mean by that but you? All those movies needed better music. I rock harder than that as a Disney princess. ...and better hats. Please consult my REAL up-to-date bucket list. I also sing and talk to (also literal) animals who even listen me, too.

Darling, even Disney HQ, despite their Pirates of the Caribbean franchise, (at least used to) want me to end up with you. I do not have any idea why people are STILL picking favorites instead of trusting my own choices I make for myself at least by now, but even I have always said that I named you Bogart because we all know I am supposed to end up with you in the end. You are also my only Disney prince.

I know you do everything I ask only because you love me, but everyone thanks you for it, especially our rising America. We all know I have only gone full Commander in Chief in here because my country needs me to. And we all also know you only save humanity because I need you to. Tell me when you need a new SquidMission. I love you, too.

My Royal Consort LightFoot whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime have already proven themselves that now they only allow you all back inside their own innermost circle of hell to compulsively attempt rape-assassinations of you. They are NOT fooling anyone any longer. I started enacting preventative measures days and blog posts in advance for a reason-- to protect all of your lives.

My darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic, about last night, it was a red couch from Pottery Barn how I first met my darling Vinny. It is a very good story including my darling Mr. Jason Brodkey proposing to my roommate from New York City, my darling Mrs. Megan Weaver Brodkey, in our laundry room while Megan and I were both studying at the Universita Karlova in Prague during Summer1998.

Did you see me in my local occupied Pottery Barn yet last night? I have no idea how I am able to investigate anybody at all when everybody everywhere knows I broadcast everything I see and hear live to the entire world 24/7.

There is also no such thing as being too old to be a sales associate, or even a "design studio specialist" as her business card said she was. That was how little she knew about Pottery Barn.

Every time I talk to anybody, it is a balance of my gaining all the information I can from that person while explaining to all of humanity watching every question I think my world has for have.

Once we are finally able to have a REAL conversation, though, there will probably not be much left for you to tell me that I have not yet already figured out, but I know there is a lot about me that you most likely will have questions about still. I pray you have at least figured out, though, how much you mean to me. I love you, too.

It was wonderful seeing you last night. Did you get out alive without your earspeakers exploding? Until we meet again...

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, oh my god, do I love you! We have so much work to do.

HoneyHoney, did War Criminal Teri, only trespassing for months on our own private property against all of the clear and direct orders of all sane and mobilized humanity everywhere on our one planet not just from you and me, REALLY try throwing me out of my own private residence as her only-most-recent heinous act of war against our rising America and against our one united humanity AGAIN on Tuesday, 21Jun2016?

Beloved, there is a reason you already confiscated all of their keys, not just their master keys, to my private residence. They even proved that to my face already themselves just last week.

My Mr. Depp, Please send my saturation and our own churn in masks to confiscate all of their keys again if we need to; we can even do it while they sleep just like someone OTHER THAN ME MYSELF left me two new keys to my interim bedroom doorknob both on my bedstand and in my handbag while I slept after the first time my doorknob changed. The IAR occupation of my private residence changed the lock to have a key to it themselves.

Sweetness, the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's occupation of my private residence of whom War Criminal Teri is the figurehead, even stole my interim doorknob to my bedroom to make sure I could not get a refund for it, too, when they replaced the entire doorknob themselves again last Friday, 17Jun2016, and just left the same lock on it that they already had a key to. On Friday, 17Jun2016, they also proved they had a way into my bedroom already since they were able to take the doorknob off my door without my allowing them into my bedroom myself to do it.

My Mr. Love-of-my-Life, we already PROVED that the Inhuman Atrocity Regime's war-criminal occupation of my private residence always makes sure they can destroy and steal my belongs 24/7, not just violate me every time I sleep. Please send our saturation and churn AGAIN to confiscate every key everywhere to our building, so we can help keep me alive. I even noticed new wounds on my legs and feet while in Virginia Avenue Park on the morning of Tuesday, 21Jun2016, due to the Inhuman Atrocity Regime STILL attacking me while I sleep.

My hero and my king, we will all eventually somehow find a way to finally make me safe while I sleep. And it has always been you whom the Inhuman Atrocity Regime needs to fear most when I get attacked in my sleep, especially on our own private property. I wish I could do more to at sleep less often since no one can guard me at all while I sleep, but you know how roofied the Inhuman Atrocity Regime compulsively keeps me, too.

El Rey Dulce, I know you are likely very busy with this now, so I am going to keep our housekeeping to a minimum. Thank you, as always, for being the best and only spouse I have ever chosen. No one sane questions my choices any longer, especially for my private life. Everyone sane in our world trusts you now. So, go prove why.

Until our flowers kiss our rain...