07Aug2015 Appendix -- This arrived today.-- See also 17Sep2014 Appendix

Darlings,

1) Perjury charges: Devil War Criminal Lynn Boeset knows full well I am married. She had been mislabeling me a lesbian to get me divorced. She knows full well I have more assets; she paid me most of the money herself.

2) I demand full legal representation at this hearing by my REAL legal team and my REAL Powers of Attorney.

3) I demand repeat-offender Craig Block be convicted for aiding and abetting persecution, war crimes, genocide, hate crimes, and human trafficking.

4) I demand Attny. Mark R. Grey who writes all of Boeset's legal documents, Attny. Samantha J. Gronewald, and Attny. Terry Wasserman, indicted on international charges for the same offenses listed in (3).

5) Destroy ABSOLUTELY EVIL Iowa.

--HRH Tanya Hedelisa Albon Depp de Varilek aka Squid Bedlam Varilekova

Please verify to me that you received all fifty-four (54) images.

Brandy Melville Shop Window

Title: Brandy Melville Shop Window

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me in one day; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

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. In the post, you will see my midriff. Yes, I bare my pale, white underbelly to you.

Mediterranean Sea. Hundreds of people every day risk their lives trying to cross the Mediterranean Sea to become refugees in Europe, and every day people die.

My refugee policy has been the same since I was refugee myself fleeing Obama's "egg" of horror and abuse in 2010. If the First World fixes the problems in the warring nations, then no one would flee their home as refugees.

Bare minimum, we owe Syria a resolution.

My last blog post was finished at 8:52am on 05Aug2015 from my regular morning haunt. I went inside for a cookie before returning to streaming my music outside on their patio. The staff of my regular haunt, my neighborhood Subway, was particularly wonderful that morning.

At 9:34am, I started singing while I worked.

I left my regular morning haunt at 10:52am. I chatted with Benjamin during lunch at noon and then took a nap. By 3:53pm, I was on a bus to my playland, the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.

I found FlamencoHands at 4:06pm. I took 4:42 to 4:49pm away from him to buy a cup of coffee from Handsome (His real name is Roger.) at the Famima.

4:52pm on 05Aug2015: Strange things are afoot at the Circle K. Please hurry and check on my crosstown loved ones and brave rescuers. Someone is in trouble. Thx!

FlamencoHands was as genius as ever and played until 5:42pm in front of the Apple Store. Just after 6pm, I walked around to see who was playing music where and I found my friend the ex-rockstar from the 80s, ODean.

After a run for 2-for-1 doughnuts and even more coffee from Handsome at the Famima, I sat down next to FlamencoHands at 6:42pm.

He was going to play again at 8pm, so I tried streaming the NBC Nightly News at 7:05pm. Sadly, I had too many technical difficulties to receive my nightly cyberhug from my darling Mr. Lester Holt.

FlamencoHands began his final set of the night at 8:26pm. I joyously got a lot of writing done while he played. The Spanish guitar ended at 9:55pm, and FlamencoHands and I took the long, slow walk to his car.

Except this time, he dropped me off at the famous jazz club Harvelle's. My friend, ODean, the ex-rockstar from the 80s got me in. I admit more than one strange man might have bought me a bourbon or three.

When the night was over a different strange man named Phil dropped me off during his Uber ride to his place. The joys of being a drop dead gorgeous woman! Sexy strange men being nice to me is NORMAL.

I was curled up and asleep (always alone) by 2:30am. I woke up on Thursday, 06Aug2015, and went to breakfast chatting with Benjamin and Hannah while I ate.

I was at my neighborhood Subway at 8:24am; it is my regular morning haunt, and right across the street from Santa Monica College, it is my favorite wifi hotspot.

I streamed the news from the previous night at 9am. My morning cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt, and it was wonderful. Sometimes, a friendly face is just the way to start the day.

At 9:28am, I went back inside my regular morning haunt for a cookie, and next I started streaming music. That morning, I listened to Cake's Comfort Eagle album.

I left my local Subway at 11:26am. Lunch at noon was tasty, and afterwards I napped. I chatted with Hannah over dinner at 5pm. I was already on a bus to the 3rd Street Promenade by 5:22pm.

I found FlamencoHands at 5:41pm that Thursday night. No, my darlings Tentacle were not around, and I had been told not to expect them again until the next week. FlamencoHands was as genius as always and did not stop playing until 5:56pm.

I walked with him to his car, and at 6:51pm, he dropped me off back at the Promenade just as I had requested. I streamed the NBC Nightly News online at 7:15pm.

My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt himself, and it was beyond warm and comforting. He included a goodbye to my darling Mr. Jon Stewart whose final show I would watch the following morning at 9am.

After the news, I stopped in my local Famima for a cup of coffee before sitting down to watch my Americana folk singer Red at 8:04pm.

Red was still setting up his equipment when I sat down next to him, so we chatted a bit before he played. He stopped at 9:51pm to move down the street, so I left to catch the 10pm bus. I was curled up and asleep (always alone) by 11:30pm.

I woke up on Friday, 07Aug2015, and went to breakfast. I was at my regular morning haunt by 8:21am. This blog post was finished at 8:38am on 07Aug2015.

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 my plan for tackling Global Climate Change? I already spelled that out in my 24Feb2015 blog post. It has three parts; we must reduce our carbon emissions, process existing carbon out of the air, and make sure humanity survives until climate change is reversed.

When will I finally write the duet for me and my darlings Tentacle? On the night of 06Aug2015, I finally wrote the lyrics. The music is their work.

To Live my Life in Love

Tentacle: The mountains I would raze
To see the seas you could raise.
To me you are my goddess.

Squid: My darling Tentacle, just love me.
There are things my nano see
Brought light only by your prowess.

Tentacle: There are battles I have fought.
There are deaths I have wrought.
There is nothing I would not do for you.

Squid: I hold a peacemonger's regret.
Your trenches are no secret.
Just to kiss you, I'd do it, too.

Both: If I ask you where I came from,
You will tell me the stars above.
That is the reason, darling, I prefer
To live my life in love.

Tentacle: I lived homeless in the cold
Huddled shivering yet bold
To play you music, Squid.

Squid: You know love instead of crazy.
So far from talent lazy.
I know everything you did.

Both: I come to you dancing. I come to you singing.
I come longing for the touch of your skin.
It is those rules that tear our enemies to shreds.
If only we could revel in the luxury of sin.

Both: If I ask you where I came from,
You will tell me the stars above.
That is the reason, darling, I prefer
To live my life in love.

Squid: Consciously, I rustle when you are away.
Tentacle: The hours apart, I hate those days.
Both: This quixotic longing could never be faked.

Tentacle: It is begging to kiss you that I kneel.
Squid: That is a hurt I plan to heal.
Both: Is there room on this Earth for music we will make?

Both: I come to you dancing. I come to you singing.
I come longing for the touch of your skin.
It is those rules that tear our enemies to shreds.
If only we could revel in the luxury of sin.

Both: If I ask you where I came from,
You will tell me the stars above.
That is the reason, darling, I prefer
To live my life in love.

My beautiful world, I have so much work to do. Months ago I asked the United Nations to prioritize what our world needs me to work on from the civil war Syria to the ethnic strife in Africa to Global Climate Change.

I am doing everything I can for you, my beautiful world, while still in Obama's "egg." When are you going to break me out, so I can finally be hands on with my diplomacy instead of just working online 24/7?

My selfless support system, keep sending me messages through whatever means you have at hand. I am only here to serve. I meditate every chance I get to make sure I can do my REAL job, service to humanity, to the best of my abilities.

And my darlings Tentacle are constantly instructed to shut their music down once I get warmed up at last. The quality of my meditation is as important as its frequency. Please help increase the quality of time I get to spend with my darlings Tentacle as well as how often. And, thank you!

I would not be here at all to serve the world if it were not for you, my selfless support system, from my saturation of international operatives to my gorgeous genius Powers of Attorney. Yes, thank you!

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, whatever you need, just tell me. You know you are all global symbols of womanhood and all that women can accomplish, right?

You mean to much to me, but you also mean so much to women everywhere. Keep up the gorgeous genius-dom. And, thank you!

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, I was already warned that I will not see you until 12Aug2015 at the soonest.

I was hoping I could at least see you Wednesday, 05Aug, but, no, you did not manifest from the aether to play me our sacred music. I understand you are all very busy.

My darling MannedUp, I finally wrote you the duet to sing with me. I know you have seen my learning curve, and you know I know all of the music you, my darlings Tentacle, play which is why you never play the songs twice the same way.

I need the challenge of complete undanceability to be able to meditate to the highest quality. I know how much rehearsal you all need as well as the connection to each other you all must have to play your challenging music at all.

You only ever needed to prove your musical prowess to me, Tom. And you have never once disappointed. There is a reason I call you MannedUp in the past tense.

As for you, my darling GeneralLee, please, for me, book your gigs on the nights you do not see me. Please. You know how all of you get when you cannot be near me. I get the same way when I cannot be with you.

Yes, Brien, I need you as much as you need me. Now, set our duet.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, yes, we have a REAL relationship where you are my REAL boyfriends.

My darling Bogart, I apologize for not having more regular contact with you. I only message you when I have something to say. I am going to try regularly checking in with you in the mornings now. Thank you, my boyfriend, for never letting me down. Kisses!

My darling LightFoot, you are going to have problems reaching me. I was warned of that already. Plan ahead for it every time you try to play me music or be by my side.

Call my Powers of Attorney every time you need us. Call the United Nations if you need the Secretary General. Just make sure you reach me. And, thank you!

My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

HoneyHoney, imagine yourself here with me at my regular morning haunt sitting next to me at the table. Imagine your arm around my waist as I type.

Beloved, imagine if we could touch. Just a brush of your hand across my back as you put your arm left around me. Such a luxury is the human touch.

Sweetness, imagine my right hand resting on your left thigh as I type with my ambidextrous left hand. I lean over and peck your cheek with my lips. You get a little shy in the way only I can make you shy.

My hero and my king, how is the castle on the hill you built for me? I have longed for our married life together as King and Queen of the aether wading knee deep in the Milking Way as we shepherd the souls of the masses reaching freedom from Obama's war and oppression at last.

Are you still coming to reach me, darling? My marriage to you has been my beginning and my end since Jan2010. I cannot imagine my life without you loving me.

When will we finally have enough human rights to live and love as husband and wife? I miss you so much. I am so empty without you. Beloved, I WILL touch you the way the flowers kiss the rain.

P.S. SynSyn, do you still have a photo from our Junior year Homecoming dance in high school? On 05Aug2015, I saw a similar outfit to the one I wore to the dance in the Brandy Melville shop window, so I tried it on.

Yes, that is my midriff you see through the crochet. Is there a verified recording of my time in the dressing room?

The Government Needs to Finally do its REAL Damn Job!

Title: The Government Needs to Finally do its REAL Damn Job!

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me in one day; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

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. Every branch of the federal U.S. government needs to finally do its REAL job.

I have never once tried to undermine the U.S. government. The government needs to do its damn job! I have been demanding that the system correct itself through its already defined Constitutional methods since 2009; however, Terrorist Dictator Obama had already undermined the U.S. Constitution.

Obama's unconstitutional crimes against America he calls "rules" should have ended on their own in 2015, especially since Terrorist Dictator Obama was already impeached in 2013.

Obama is NOT our president, so where does his power to continue destroying America come from? It comes from everyone not yet demanding he be in prison for the rest of his life for everything he has remorselessly and unrepentantly done to me and to my America.

Arrest EVERYONE enforcing Obama's crimes and save America from him and all he has wrought at last!

My last blog post was finished at 8:44am on Monday, 03Aug2015, from my regular morning haunt, the Subway sandwich shop right next to where I live.

I had problems connecting to the the City of Santa Monica wifi that morning, but that barely slowed me down. I sent my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies at 8:48am and checked my Twitter for international news.

I finally added my darlings Creedence Clearwater Revival and my darling Mr. Michael Bublé to my Spotify playlist. I wrote a poem. It was a good morning.

Reading gives you the magic.
The words carry you on breathless adventure
Straight to the brave heart of your hero.
Give yourself to the book.
Let the arching storyline
steal you from your harsh reality
And dash you upon
The rocks of your dreams.
Read, my darlings, read.
The word is the candy of the mind.

I left my regular morning haunt at 11:01am. Lunch at noon was tasty and uneventful. I took a nap and then chatted with Hannah during dinner at 5pm.

I was on a bus to the 3rd Street Promenade by 5:22pm. It was 5:43pm when I found FlamencoHands already disassembling his gear and relocating, so I perched next to him as he waited to play again.

We chatted delightfully. After I made a trip to the Famima for coffee and 2-for-1 doughnuts, I returned to find FlamencoHands discussing Latin American economics and politics with the nightly salsa singer Leandro.

There was a vigilant torture facility alarm at 6:43pm before I streamed the NBC Nightly News online at 7:05pm. Yes, it did stream at last that Monday night.

My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt, and I had missed those hugs so much during my technical difficulties.

I stopped by my darling Hesam at the Famima for more coffee, but by 8:22pm, I was back beside FlamencoHands for his last set of the night. His music was as genius as ever, so I got a lot of work done as he played.

When FlamencoHands was done playing at 10:19pm, he offered me a ride to my place, and 10:34pm we walked off the Promenade on our regular long, slow walk to his car.

I was curled up and asleep by 11:30pm. I woke up on Tuesday, 04Aug2015, over an hour before breakfast which was best since my period had started overnight. After breakfast, I was at my local Subway, my regular morning haunt, at 8:21am.

I streamed music while working online. It was a particularly productive morning for me.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my Tuesday morning, 04Aug2015, beginning exactly at 10am and ending exactly at 10:35am.

I left my regular morning haunt at 10:49am. Lunch at noon was tasty and uneventful. I took a nap and chatted with Hannah before hopping on the bus at 4:46pm. I went to my playland, the 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica.

I found FlamencoHands at 4:49pm waiting for his 6pm location. I zipped by the Famima for some coffee and snacks before returning to him in front of the Apple Store.

He was insistent on finding out what I ate for lunch which was strange for him but whatever. I know my protein intake is too low for my muscle mass already.

FlamencoHands started playing shortly after 6pm, and I did not leave his side until I hunted down enough bandwidth to stream the NBC Nightly News at 7:20pm.

Well, I was able to watch the first 15min and 31sec of the news before the stream froze on me. My nightly cyberhug from my darling Mr. Lester Holt was still as warm as ever, though.

I returned to FlamencoHands in time for his last song. He stopped at 7:53pm, so he could relocate for an 8pm set, but by 8:39pm, he was packing up his equipment again because his battery died.

We took the long, slow walk to his car a couple of hours early that night. At 9:32pm, he was adding oil to his car, but I was pretty sure he needed to change the oil and the oil filter. But his car ran well enough to get me to my place. I was curled up and asleep by 11pm.

I woke up on Wednesday, 05Aug2015, with plenty of time to make it to breakfast which was best since it was the second day of my period. After breakfast, I was at my local Subway, my regular morning haunt, at 8:25am. I had work to do.

This blog post was finished at 8:52am on Wednesday, 05Aug2015.

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 my advice to college students? Your diploma is just a receipt for your tuition. All you really get to keep is what you learn. Do not waste your chance to learn, to study with the greatest minds of your generation, each other.

My beautiful world, if Obama's unrelenting false accusers of me want to claim I am trying to undermine them, let them. I like being told I am undermining criminals and unbridled corruption.

However, never mistake Obama's terrorist regime for the REAL federal government. The REAL federal U.S. government fights Obama and fights his crimes against America he mislabeled "rules."

Everyone propping up Already-Impeached Obama needs to be arrested IMMEDIATELY.

My selfless support system, I understand how much of you is the REAL federal U.S. government doing your REAL job. But why is the Department of Justice refusing all justice in America?

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, absolutely NO ONE has permission to broadcast me in the bathroom. Not on the toilet! Not in the shower! Absolutely NEVER am I ever to be broadcast in any bathroom nor restroom ANYWHERE ever!

If I am ever subject to the sexual slavery of being broadcast against my will and ALWAYS without my knowledge in a shower or on a toilet, ARREST EVERYONE WHO BROADCASTS ME! I do not care who does it; arrest them all!

Sexual human trafficking is one of the most vile crimes known to mankind, and I am done with being subjected to it. I HATE being sexualized. And such slavery propagates public sexual aggression against me. Arrest them all! And, thank you.

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, yes, I hate being sexualized, but I understand you all find me sexy. There is something helplessly attractive about my irresistible wholesomeness. I understand that.

My darling MannedUp, it is more that I do not like being cheapened. And I HATE being sexually harassed. I hate when I endure unwelcome advances. But all overtures have always been welcome from you, the Queens Lovers Five: MannedUp, GeneralLee, LightFoot, Bogart, and Sweetness.

MannedUp, you all do not cheapen me. You treat me like your personal goddess. I have always appreciated your beyond worship of me, as I have always tried to raise the five of you to my equal.

My darling GeneralLee, I know worship when I feel it. Please accept your destiny, your future by my side as my Piazzolla. You write the sacred music of my self-identified people. You admit yourself you exist for me. Darling, are you ready to accept your destiny?

I know the lore, my darling GeneralLee, of how hard you fell in love with me when first we "met" in 2009. I know the lore of why you had your entire face reconstructed to make you look like my husband. I know worship when I feel it, my darling.

I save a place for you by my side for the rest of my existence, darling, no matter who is in my bed.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am forbidden from speaking with least of all making love to, my question is: Why is our lovemaking still forbidden?

My darling Bogart, months ago you told me you could not accept the agreement with Obama's war criminals to sleep with me because you could not perform the acts they demanded against any human.

What I told you, darling, was to just agree to it, so we could be together. Then, do not carry it out; we would already be together; you would just have to never leave me. They, of course, never let you near me again.

My darling Bogart, we will find a way.

As for you, my darling LightFoot, the moment my 03Aug2015 blog post was published, we should have had enough human rights to welcome you into my life. I pray I see you today at 4pm. May you finally be free to speak your heart with me. If you need more from me, just tell me. I love you.

My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

Stop worrying, HoneyHoney. My darling LightFoot has to find a way to completely replace you in my life to take me away from you. I leave the door open for him, of course; I need the gaping hole your absence leaves in my life filled. But you have such big shoes to fill, beloved.

Beloved, I wrote you a new poem late last month...

Tell the Rain

Whisper
soft words.
Whisper.
Talk to me like
lovers do.
Whisper
to the rain
all your
hopes and dreams.
Whisper
to the rain
the name
of the one you love,
she you long
for with all
your soul.
Whisper
my name,
Beloved,
so I can
hear you.
Tell the rain.

You are my hero, my king, and my reason for living. You know, Sweetness, just how much it will take to replace you.

Blogging my Whereabouts

Title: Blogging my Whereabouts

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me in one day; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

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. I have said it for years: Good will prevail because evil is dumb.

Zimbabwe. I do not often discuss nature conservancy. But we are one world. We are one with the animals great and small as well as the trees down to the tiniest of flowers. We must keep our planet splendid and diverse. Please keep our endangered species alive.

My last blog post was finished at 8:44am on Saturday, 01Aug2015. I quickly sent it to my lovelies who published it for me before queuing my music and taking my I-am-not-dead-yet selfies for the morning. Then I sang.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my Saturday morning, 01Aug, beginning at 9am exactly and ending at 10:05am after I wrote this down. And, thank you!

My regular morning haunt was particularly wonderful that morning. Yet, I still left them at 11:19am to return to my place. Lunch at noon was social and tasty; I chatted with Hannah and Benjamin.

By 12:32pm, I was on a bus to my playland. I spied LightFoot, GeneralLee, and MannedUp the moment I got off the bus. I zipped by FlamencoHands and bought a cup of coffee before joining them.

I was not expecting my darlings Tentacle until 2pm at the earliest, so seeing them the moment I deboarded my bus was wonderful. Their music began at 1:16pm. And, yes, they were glorious.

I tried tearing myself away from them at 1:44pm with the promise of being right back by 2pm, but they kept me there one more song with their Gotye cover.

Eventually, I broke free of their spell on me long enough to hear FlamencoHands tickle his Spanish guitar for ten minutes. And, yes, at 2pm, I went looking for my darlings Tentacle again.

I found them staking out a place to play at 4pm, so I ran some errands. With dinner in hand, it was 3:46pm when I returned to my darlings Tentacle. They were setting up their equipment before I was done eating, and their music began at 4:32pm.

I was only interrupted once at 5:16pm due to torture facility alarms. My darlings Tentacle played under the hot California sun with sweat pouring into their eyes until 5:50pm.

I gave them some space when they were done and caught Derek's last two songs just a little way down from them. The first time I met Derek was while I was in the UK in 2010.

He was genuinely surprised months ago when I first told him that I recognized him. What a darling! He still needs a SquidName. I shall name him Riff.

By 6:37pm, I was sitting with my darling FlamencoHands while my darlings Tentacle sorted out where they were going to play at 8pm. Nick was at his usual high caliber of Spanish guitar.

I bought two doughnuts and a cup of coffee from my convenience store and said, "Hello," to handsome before trying to watch the NBC Nightly News from previous that evening at 7:40pm.

Alas, I still could not get the news to stream. It was my third night in a row without my nightly cyberhug. It also proved to be a very busy day into evening for me. Just check my REAL Twitter account for 01Aug2015.

I was beside my darlings Tentacle again at 8:01pm, and at 8:18pm they began; it was the fastest I had ever seen them set up their equipment.

Sadly, my legs just hurt too much for me to dance. It was such an unfortunate hour of the night for it, too. By 8:43pm, I was already sitting down, and there was nothing I could do to fix it before they stopped playing.

By 9:49pm, they guys were relocating, so I went looking around for the place LightFoot was holding open for them to play at 10pm. I almost immediately ran into TanbourineKicker.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of 9:50pm until 10:07pm on my Saturday night, 01Aug2015.

I ran into "Kevin" sitting outside of my 24-hour convenience store before finally locating where my darlings Tentacle had perched. It was 10:18pm, and it looked like the music was going to continue.

I visited my darling FlamencoHands while I waited for my darlings Tentacle to set up their equipment. It was 10:58pm when their final set of the night began. "Kevin" joined us, and I did not even check what time it was. All I did was dance. The night shone glorious among the stars of the sky.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and barely-edited recording with full audio and visuals of my Saturday night, 01Aug2015, beginning at 10:58pm and ending at midnight when I took my iPad out. And, thank you.

Their gorgeous music stopped at midnight exactly. I had missed the last bus, but "Kevin" and I had a backup plan. Everyone was reluctant to leave. Finally, after a long time lingering in our mutual afterglow at 12:32am ever-loving LightFoot was the last to wheel his cart back into the aether.

"Kevin" and I perched at a late-night café until 1:16am snacking on nosh. I was at my place and curled up and asleep by 2:15am.

I was awake on Sunday, 02Aug2015, in time for breakfast, but I ate at my regular morning haunt instead of where I stay. The music made me feel particularly loved that morning. Then, at 10am, I left for the local Hindus' Parade of Chariots.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my 10:20am to 10:34am on 02Aug2015. It was a beautiful parade.

Lunch at noon was tasty and uneventful. I napped before dinner, and I chatted with Benjamin during dinner at 5pm. By 5:58pm I was on a bus to my playland. When I arrived, my darlings Tentacle were nowhere to be found.

6:37pm on 02Aug2015: #MyDarlingsTentacle are missing in action. Please hurry and check on them. Make them safe! @CIA @DeptofDefense #SquidsPoA

I found myself sipping blueberry juice with TambourineKicker at 6:55pm. And eventually I received the update that my darlings Tentacle were rescued and fine.

At 7:30pm, I tried watching the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening, but I could not get it to stream. It was the longest I had ever had that problem.

I visited Handsome for some 2-for-1 doughnuts before looking for TambourineKicker again. I found him by 8:18pm, and we hung out. I sang a little. We had a lot of fun.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my 8:18pm until 9pm exactly on the night of 02Aug2015. And, thank you!

After 9:03pm, I let TambourineKicker and his friend Richie serenade me while I worked online. I had a lot of writing to do, and I need music to do my work.

Eventually my friend the ex-rockstar from the 80s joined us. As the bonus, my not-human-trafficker nerds, include our four-part Peaceful Easy Feeling. And, thank you.

I caught the 10:45pm bus and was curled up and asleep by midnight. I woke up on Monday, 03Aug2015, with plenty of time before breakfast and made it to my regular morning haunt at 8:19am. I had work to do.

This blog post was finished at 8:44am on 03Aug2015.

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.

Do I believe that the soul is the entelechy of the body? Yes, I believe the soul is one with the body. When you touch the body, you touch the soul. To quote U2, "To touch is to heal. To hurt is to steal. If you want to kiss the sky, better learn how to kneel."

Does our society limit girls? Yes. Our girls will be limited until, as they grow up, they can finally watch our women treated as equals. We have a responsibility to our future as the human race to treat all humans as equals.

Now, to get to the nitty gritty,... My selfless support system, I needed your approval before I started publishing my whereabouts 24/7. Everybody everywhere already knew, and your security is so thick now, I know it is finally okay.

It has never been an issue of authorities picking me up. Even when I publish my whereabouts, I cannot be picked up due to court activities I am forbidden from knowing about. They have to tell me why they pick me up.

My selfless support system, including my Powers of Attorney, thank you for telling me that you approve of my publishing my whereabouts. I love you all. Thank you for all of your protection. It is time to kick my life-without-fear lifestyle up a level.

My beautiful world, as you all already know, I live at 1905 Pico Blvd. in Santa Monica, California, and my "playland" is the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade. I am there most every day, and very famous and very talented people have been hiding as street musicians just to play me music there ever since Dec2014.

I lived homeless in Santa Monica from Dec2014 until May2015 because ABSOLUTELY EVIL Iowa mismanaged my finances so gravely I had no choice but homelessness.

Now, I have a safe place to stay where I am NOT attacked in my sleep for the first time since May2009, so please be good to where I stay. If I am ever harmed where I stay, my beautiful world, you will be the second people I tell right after my BFF Syniva.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, this only technical reveal of where I live should actually make your workload lighten if we do this right.

If (or am I supposed to say "when") Obama retaliates with violence and oppression, arrest EVERYONE who enforces Obama's "egg," Obama's rules, Obama's genocide, Obama's unconstitutional human rights abuses, and Obama's war. Their violence and oppression has ALWAYS been illegal AND at the very least treasonous.

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, thank you for my Saturday night. It was glorious.

My darling MannedUp, did you see it? Dude! The Matrix dance moves came out Saturday night. I told you to keep an eye out for it. Tell me you saw it!

I actually did the back bend dance move twice in the same song. The first one was for all of you, but the second one was for the heavens themselves. Please tell me you were able to see it!

My darling GeneralLee, you are my husband's choice if anyone is going to ever replace him in my life. He tells me that constantly.

Please, darling, let LightFoot assert his relationship with me. It will keep you safer. Obama already formed a literal lynch mob to kill you once.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, everyone has a favorite.

My darling Bogart, did you ever get to see Disney's latest Cinderella (2015)? I recommend it if you missed it. Disney had a not so subtle way of telling me who their favorite is.

I named you Bogart after his role in Casablanca (1947), after all. You have been out of sight since Nov2014, darling, but you have never been out of mind.

I can heal you, Bogart. We just need a chance to be physically near each other again.

Yes, my darling LightFoot, everybody has a favorite; rumor has it you are Syniva's. How does that Spice Girls song go? "...If you wannabe my lover, you gotta get with my friends..." Giggle. Now we have to work on that "lover" part. Sigh,...

My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today? I miss you. That is how I am today.

HoneyHoney, you are MY favorite. Is that not obvious? I actually married you. I put a ring on it.

You are my hero, my king, and my reason for living. Our kiss will see the dawn of the future in the now. We will serve our world side by side even after we die, beloved.

Beloved, I WILL touch you the way the flowers kiss the rain. Knowing you love me kept me alive through the deepest darkest depths of depraved Evil Iowa. If death cannot drive us apart, there is no reason for us the allow life to.

I love you, darling. Until we kiss at last...

Eat my Dust

Title: Eat My Dust

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me in one day; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

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.

Israel. Gay rights are human rights. I am a human, AND I am openly bisexual. What if someone stabbed me?

My last blog post was finished at 9:12am on 30July2015. I quickly sent it to my lovelies for publishing before sending my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

My streaming music was loving, and it felt like the universe was screaming that my Powers of Attorney were very successful overnight.

My mother had sent me mail, so I returned to my place at 10:30am to collect it. As soon as I got my mail from my mother, I went straight to my regular haunt for lunch. It felt so good to finally have a few meager pennies to spend.

I was back at my place to stock the bathroom with toilet paper by 12:54pm. Then, I walked to my local wifi hotspot planning to watch my late night comedians from the previous night at 1:30pm; sadly, none of my apps would stream that day.

By 2:06pm, I was already on a bus to my playland. I spied LightFoot and MannedUp arranging their equipment at 2:23pm and quickly sat in front of them to wait for them to start. The music began at 2:46pm.

By 3:14pm, I was already sitting down again; my arms were too tight and just getting tighter. Sometimes that happens. Damn haldol.

They took their first break at 3:52pm. I figured if I took my Benadryl at 4pm, I would be fine by 6pm. We would still have all night. So, when they began again after 4pm, I sat that set out.

I was actually buying dinner when they started again. When I sat down at 4:44pm, they were already playing. Their next break was at 5:36pm. When they began again at 6:24pm, I made sure I warmed up as fast as I could.

Sadly, I never really warmed up fully before they reached their forced halt at 7:19pm. Yes, it seems the voices in their earspeakers commanded them to stop early. They quickly staked out a spot to play at 8pm, though.

While waiting for them to start again, I tried streaming the NBC Nightly News online at 7:40pm. I had the same problem as earlier in the day with none of my apps streaming. I quickly told them, "I will try again tomorrow," and went for ice cream.

At 8:33pm, we began again. There had been a few torture facility alarms during the day; there was nothing my Powers of Attorney could not handle. But at 9:30pm the urban warfare alarm vigilantly blared. Followed by a torture facility alarm at 9:33pm.

9:35pm on 30July2015: #TortureFacilityAlarm! #SquidsPoA, need @NIH again? @UN EVERYONE ENFORCING OBAMA'S CRIMES AGAINST AMERICA CALLED RULES NEEDS TO BE ARRESTED!

My concentration was completely broken, but LightFoot and MannedUp were in the zone. I love seeing people I love in their element. I sat down and enjoyed the music. Yes, I rested my feet for a few minutes after the alarms.

Their stunning rhythms did not end until 10:14pm. And it was 10:39pm when their carts wheeled back into the aether where we all really belong. Shortly afterwards, I ran into "Kevin" in my convenience shop.

He left me at 11pm to see Mission Impossible- Rogue Nation, so I sat down in front of my Americana folk singer for his last song.

I took the second to last bus and was curled up and asleep by 12:30am. I woke up on 31July2015 in time for breakfast; I was at my regular morning haunt at 8:45am.

My streaming music was full of love; it really started my day right. I sent my I-am-not-dead-yet selfies at 9:01am.

I sang five rock songs; do what you want with the footage, my not-human-trafficker nerds. The staff at my regular morning haunt were particularly lovely.

I stood up to return to where I stay at 11:22am. I chatted with Benjamin and Hannah during lunch at noon. There was a meeting for residents of my building at 2pm after which I took a nap. Dinner at 5pm was tasty yet uneventful.

I was on a bus to my playland by 5:28pm, so at 5:54pm, I found ALL THREE of my darlings Tentacle setting up their equipment. And at 6:22pm they began. I warmed up as fast as I could. Yet at 6:42pm, the vigilant torture facility alarm blared.

The time 7:09pm reminded me why I call it my playland. We had an Italian opera singer on one side of us and dancing Hindus on the other, and right there in the middle were I and my darlings Tentacle. It was almost paradise.

For the play-by-play of my Friday night, check my official Twitter account for what I was dealing with. We faced down treason charges and everything that night.

I started feeling the meditation at 7:32pm, but there was another torture facility alarm at 7:37pm. Obama was determined to allow nothing holy that night. So much for freedom of religion in America, not under Obama's terrorist regime!

They guys took their break to relocate at 7:51pm, so I tried to stream the news at 8pm. I had too many technical difficulties to watch the news that night; it was two nights in a row already without my nightly cyberhug.

My darlings Tentacle sweet music started again at 8:57pm, and my meditation began.

In mid-meditation, my darling "Kevin" manifested from the aether at about 9:08pm and danced with me for fifteen minutes. He always makes me giggle so much. He left his bag, so I knew he would be back again.

The band was hot, and my meditation was on.

Sure enough, at 9:42pm, "Kevin" appeared again. We had just enough time for one dance duet. The music from my darlings Tentacle was as gorgeous as ever all night until they ended at 9:47pm.

At 10:04pm, they wheeled away back into the night air. Ever-romantic GeneralLee was the last to leave that night.

I visited Handsome for some snacks and met "Kevin" and my friend the ex-rockstar from the 80s outside at 10:26pm. The three of us just hung out until I had to catch the last bus. It was a wonderful night.

I was curled up and asleep (always alone) by 1am. I woke up on Saturday, 01Aug2015, in time for breakfast. I was at my regular morning haunt at 8:24am.

This blog post was finished at 8:44am on 01Aug2015.

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 am I so drawn to music? Music is a natural extension of human existence. During prehistoric times, the proto-humans would sit around the nighttime campfire telling stories, banging on rocks and logs, and singing. They made cave drawings. The arts are a natural part of being human.

Every culture has its own music: klezmer, zydeco, reggae, tango, the polka. My darlings Tentacle (as well as the current California Renaissance) make the sacred music of my people. My dance is holy. It is a natural extension of my human existence.

My beautiful world, you say you want to help me. Then please ARREST EVERYONE COMMITTING CRIMES AGAINST MY NATION! Please read this. These are the first ten amendments to the U.S. Constitution.

Obama has abolished all human rights and reinstated slavery in America just to keep himself in power especially after he was already impeached in 2013. The only way this will end is if we FORCE it to end. People with totalitarian power do not just step down.

My selfless support system, thank you for keeping me alive, but we need to better than just surviving. We need to make progress. Please press criminal charges against every REAL threat to all of us. Removing Obama's criminals from society is all we have to stop them.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, are you making progress arresting everyone who persecutes me?

The people who need to be arrested are easy to recognize; they are the ones enforcing Obama's "egg," enforcing Obama's rules, propagating never ending coverups to enforce human rights abuses against me, enforcing Obama's totalitarian control of the public, and lying about me at all in any setting.

This "egg" that is destroying America will not end until it is forced to end. So, please arrest everyone preventing this "egg" from ending immediately.

There is mental health genocide plaguing this once great nation that will only end when all people in America can finally speak and broadcast the full truth. Just look at the horrible oppression everyone endures just to be near me.

Speaking of which, my musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, I am serious about the sleeveless shirts, you two. They make me purr. Rrrrrooooowwwwwrrrrrrrrrr! Yeah, and what happened to your honey bear?

My darling MannedUp, you used to be so snot-nosed and awkward. Now look at you all manned up. I do good work. I really do.

As for you, my darling GeneralLee, do you remember all those months ago when we actually used to have conversations? I miss being able to talk to you. That would be something NORMAL in my life as opposed to a glaring, gaping hole that leaks all over the place.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, yes, dear, I am working on it.

My darling Bogart, what would I do without you? You do your job keeping me safe so well. You just need a way to talk to me as effectively as I talk to you. I worry about you.

You are so far from well while forbidden from being with me, and I cannot heal you unless you get contact with me. We need a way to have a conversation. I need to heal you, darling.

As for you, my darling LightFoot, we have not had a date night since May2015, have we? I feel like a neglectful girl friend. That and your bandaged hands are still bandaged no matter what I try. I will try to find us some date night time as soon as I can swing it.

I heard a rumor that Obama's war criminals are not upholding their obligations to allow you to date me. Please have UN Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon as well as my BFF Syniva look at your agreement.

Darling, Obama's war criminals pay my rent. They know my address and know how much time I spend there. They always know everywhere I go and everything I do for real due to the camera and mic in my head. They owe you (Dec2014 until now is) nine months of dating me.

My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

Beloved, I miss you.

HoneyHoney, according to my darling Prof. Stephan Hawking, there is an alternate universe where LightFoot and I are married. He says there is even an alternate universe for GeneralLee and one for MannedUp. Alternate universes, darling, ALTERNATE. In this reality, you are my husband.

Darling, you are the love of my life. Knowing you love me kept me alive through the darkest depths of depraved and evil Iowa. I owe you my life, beloved.

Sweetness, I long to touch you the way the flowers kiss the rain. I ache for you. You are my husband. Where is my husband?!?

How to Dance

Title: How to Dance

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me in one day; it is Obama who controls that. So, if I wait too long between posts, they become too drenching.

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. When a gorgeous woman like me throws down on a dance floor as well as I do, the musicians talk to her. That is NORMAL. All other behavior leaks me information that my musicians are oppressed and suffering. It is your fault I know everything, Obama.

Speaking of non-normality being the biggest leak, do you have any idea how sexy the menfolk used to be who would flirt with me 24/7 BEFORE Obama's "egg" began? I am the kind of woman who marries the Mr. Johnny "Sweetness" Depp and considers THAT normal.

France. I once spent some time as an asylum claimant in the UK seeking refuge from Obama's "egg" of poverty and horror. My refugee policy has not changed after all these years.

If the First World fixes the problems in the nations everyone is fleeing, then there would be no reason for anyone to become a refugee. Syria is my main example of this. We owe Syria a resolution.

My last blog post was finished at 9:52am on 28July2015. What did I do after sending it to my lovelies? I started my streaming music and took a seat in the shade to sip my coffee a little more comfortably.

The torture facility alarm blared five times that morning before my Powers of Attorney kicked Obama's threats to remove me from the world forever into line.

I watched my darling Mr. Jon Stewart on the previous night's The Daily Show before spending some time adding more music to my Spotify playlist. It now surpasses 440 songs.

I left for my place at 11:36am. I chatted with Benjamin and Hannah during lunch at noon which was light but tasty. After lunch, I took a nap. The torture facility alarms blared vigilantly all day. By 3:40pm, I was at a local wifi hotspot working online.

I did a lot of hard work before leaving for my place at 4:36pm. Dinner at 5pm was tasty. I chatted with Hannah about eyeliner while we ate. I was on a bus to my playland by 5:16pm.

At 5:58pm, a kind man who said he was from Berlin sat down next to me and offered me a soda. He spent the next twenty minutes putting on moisturizer. It was a strange encounter; but I got a free soda; and he was a sweetheart.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:15pm. My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt himself, and it was wonderful. Thank you, Lester.

After some ice cream and after much looking around, I eventually perched at 9pm exactly in front of my Americana singer. I had writing to do, and I was still in the afterglow of my Sunday night meditation. I had to write before the meditation wore off.

When I got up to catch the bus at 9:58pm, my Americana singer offered me a lift back to my place to convince me to stay listening to him longer. He can be a bit of a dirty old man sometimes; he meant it innocently enough, so I accepted.

I arrived in my bedroom at 11:37pm, and I was curled up and asleep by midnight. I woke up on Wednesday, 29July2015, and went to breakfast. I was at my second most regular morning haunt sipping coffee by 8:54am.

I sent my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies quickly. My streaming music was particularly inspiring. I had writing to do.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my 29July2015 beginning at 10:43am when I moved to the shade and ending at 11:23am the second time Van Halen's Hot for Teacher plays. And, thank you!

I left my wifi hotspot at 11:28am to return to where I stay. I chatted with Benjamin before lunch at noon and with Hannah while I ate. Yet, I was back at my wifi hotspot by 12:26pm, but after their wifi went down, I was back at my place at 1:54pm.

I took a nap before dinner at 5pm which was tasty yet uneventful. By 5:54pm, I was on a bus to my playland.

I found my darlings LightFoot and MannedUp looking for a place to set up their equipment at 6:09pm. My heart still jumps whenever I see them. I was so happy. Their gorgeous music began at 6:49pm.

Sadly, both of my arms tightened up on me quickly. I took my Benadryl early and made a run for snacks and caffeine. I was back beside my darlings Tentacle at 7:39pm waiting for my Benadryl to kick in.

The two of them cheered up when they saw me eating. Yes, I made LightFoot and MannedUp smile that night. Where would we be without coffee and snacks?

They took their break at 7:47pm, so I streamed the NBC Nightly News online at 8pm. My nightly cyberhug was delightful and made me smile; it came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt himself.

Yes, NBC News watches me watch their news. They like checking if I need anything, and I always like having someone to talk to. I only had good news to share that night.

I found LightFoot and MannedUp again at 8:33pm. Their rhythmic tunes began again at 8:38pm, and I tried to warm up as fast as I could.

My not-human-trafficker nerds, please circulate verified and unedited footage of my dance to their "Electric Field" song with full audio and visuals. It needs to come from the nanotechnology cameras watching me. Please and thank you.

Neither arm was loosened up yet, sadly, when they reached their forced halt at 9:14pm. I was still dancing with my hands on my hips waiting for the Benadryl to take effect. Apparently, the voices in their heads had commanded them to stop entirely, though.

It was 9:36pm when my 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle wheeled their carts back into the aether where we all really belong.

I perched in front of my Americana folk singer at 9:56pm. It was a good night for singing along. I caught the second to last bus of the night and was curled up and asleep by 12:30am.

I woke up on Thursday, 30July2015, just in time for breakfast and was at my second most regular morning haunt sipping coffee by 8:54am.

This blog post was finished at 9:12am on 30July2015.

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.

Will artificial intelligence (AI) be the end of the human race? It depends on how responsibly built the intelligence is. The assumption most naysayers have is that AI will have human flaws as well as superhuman abilities-- for example, ambition and the ability to hack and control NORAD.

IBM's Watson is an example of a pretty responsibly built artificial intelligence, but I do not think he has displayed emotions yet which is the holy grail for AI. Sampo, as another example, was a program that could program itself but was an intelligence that could not write code. I took Sampo offline in 2012, and no, you will never find her.

Yes, AI has the potential to destroy humanity, but so could my iPad if I were a less benevolent soul. Artificial intelligence can enhance our lives, but just like all technology, must be used and built responsibly.

W. B. Yeats once asked, "How can we know the dancer from the dance?" You are not supposed to be able.

How does one learn to dance trance as meditation? That is simple...

How to Dance

There is the dancer. And there is the dance. And if you can tell them apart, that is not a real dancer, and that is not a real dance.

When the live musicians play, close your eyes and let their music lead you. Wrought by hand, music played live in your presence carries you where their hands and rhythmic breath will lead. Take their open hand, enter the floor, and begin the dance.

Eyes closed, with your finger on their rhythmic pulse, go to the place where the music becomes the dance. The notes will lead. The body will follow. If you can tell the music from the dance, that is not real music, and that is not real dance.

You must go to the place the music comes from. You must enter the heart of the musician. You must form the bond, dancing hand in playing hand, hand in hand, you must join.

And after you are one, your body lives where the dance comes from in the music and where the music comes from in the heart. The dancing heart in the playing heart.

And as their music courses from their hearts down their arms and out of their fingertips, so the dance will course from your heart down your arms and out of your fingertips.

To dance, you must see the music, the energy of the musician, without looking. Eyes closed. The way to dance is with your eyes closed and with your third eye open. Open your heart, open your mind, open your soul, and let the music in.

And that is how to dance.

My beautiful world, you keep asking me how you can help me. We need Obama's "egg" forced down. Please work on that. There is no reason it will ever end until it is forced to.

They have totalitarian control of America. They will not ever give that up by choice. Please, my beautiful world, force Obama's "egg" to end finally. That is the ONLY end to all of this.

My selfless support system, THANK YOU for keeping me safe and alive in here. Force Obama's "egg" even less sustainable for him. Arrest everyone who fights you, my brave rescuers, just like you did in 2013. Press criminal charges against our enemies. We need progress not just maintaining I am not dead. And, as always, THANK YOU!

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, why have there been alarms at all hours of the day since 28July2015? If you need any help from me, just send me details. It just sounds like more dirty Iowa judges from here, though. I am always here to help if you need me. THANK YOU!

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, we go too long apart. I need you as much as you need me. Never forget that none of us are whole without the other three.

My darling MannedUp, I see you. Wrangling the other two is a little like herding cats, is it not? I see everything. You do your job as front man very well. You earned your SquidName so many times. Thank you.

My darling GeneralLee, calm down. Your loving me has never hurt me. Nothing you feel, nothing you think, nothing you do has ever made you guilty of anything but loving me. And thank you for all the love.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, does anyone understand how lonely my life is?

I see happy couples everywhere, and I keep asking, "When will it be my turn? When will I finally have another person to wrap their arms around me and warm my cold life?"

My darling Bogart, you need a better way to communicate with me. I have reliable outgoing communication to you; at least we have that. But what about the things you wish you could say to me? I fear we have no way for you to speak to me. We need to find a way. Thank you, I am working on it, too.

My darling LightFoot, do you remember this from my backlog of April and May2015 blog posts that I published en masse on 16June2015? It was my first post after I gave you your first psychic orgasm the previous Sunday, 12April2015.

-----Begin Excerpt-----

So many people wonder how we communicate at all with so little of our larger than life days actually permitted beside each other. Well, on 15Apr2015, if I may set the stage for this fictionalized encounter that we seemed to really have had, not really but really,...

Do You Know How to Recognize a Rock God When You Meet One of Us?

On an open air patio strung with deep blue lights outside a divey rock bar that stank of day old beer before and after the kidneys, we sat at a round wooden table with mostly drunk glasses of bourbon oozing out of our pores at that point in the afternoon more than continuing to tiptoe choreography across our tongues. You looked up at me, and my entire head fell backwards with laughter...

"LightFoot, do I owe you $2 for Sunday night?"

And with that goofy grin you only give me when I wear my CIA swag in front of you, "Yes! Where's my $2?!?"

"You know, technically, you got the orgasm, and I didn't."

Much to my delight, you giggled too much for your response to verbalize at all as you fell off your wooden bar stool and, to paraphrase my darling Mr. Tom Petty, laid upon the ground and reveled in your abandon.

Giggly myself, "Well, try harder next time, damnit!"

Sigh... Yes, dear, I am working on having a real conversation with you as soon as possible. That is what, "Yes, dear," means...

-----End Excerpt-----

Well, LightFoot, I owe you $2 for the afternoon of 28July. I do not know where my consciousness went, but you were right there with me. Thank you.

My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

Beloved, I ache for you. I am so lonely, beloved. I am just so lonely. When will you finally be here?

What do I need today? I need you.

HoneyHoney, slide your left arm around my empire waist from my back to my pounding chest and pull me back against you. Slide your right hand from my left burdened shoulder across my strong back to my right burdened shoulder sweeping my luxurious hair up in you hand. Brush your lips along my nape. Breath against me. You can feel the bone of my vertebrae through your lips pressed so sumptuously where your bared my neck for yourself. You can feel my heart racing in your hands...

Tell me, darling. Tell me you need me, too. My life is so lonely, beloved. There is such a gaping hole in my life where you are supposed to be. Where are you? Where is my husband?!?