The Griffith Observatory 2016

Title: The Griffith Observatory 2016

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 spent a beautiful night last night among the stars.

Egypt. How is freedom of speech and the right to assemble and associate doing in Egypt these days? These are basic human rights that all people need to be a truly free people. There must be the freedom to dissent against the ruling regime.

Speaking of dissenting voices... My last blog post was finished at 8:52am on 21Aug2015. I quickly sent it to my lovelies who publish all of my posts for me. Next, I queued my music and checked my makeup.

My internet gnomes played me Selena's Amor Prohibido while I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies. And I sang along while I worked from 9:28am until 10:15am.

I left for my place at 11:09am. I chatted with Josh during lunch at noon, took a nap, and by 3:37pm, was on a bus to my playland, the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.

I found no one to talk to until 4:23pm outside the Famima where I sat with Patricia as we drank our coffee. My darlings Tentacle were in Santa Cruz for the weekend. At Patricia's suggestion, I messaged my darling FlamencoHands to see if he would be around that night.

At 5:02pm, we were sitting watching Rachel strum and sing while Patricia staked out a place for herself and for her grandson to play at 6pm. Please circulate a verified and unedited recording with full audio and visuals of my walking my Promenade starting at 5:15pm and ending at 5:26pm.

And a new recording starting at 5:26pm right where that one had ended and not stopping until I leave the furniture store at 5:35pm. I need children, my beautiful world, and I turn 38 years old on 12Oct this year.

I stopped to chat with Patricia and Maggie on my way back down the Promenade, and I found FlamencoHands(Nick) at 5:48pm in front of the Apple Store. He was going to play at 8pm after Patricia's grandson Dominic.

I stopped in the Famima at 6:19pm to talk to Handsome and ended up chatting with ODean and Tony before I returned to my darling FlamencoHands at 6:34pm. It turned out to be a very social day for me. I am such an extrovert; I HATE when I have no one to chat with.

I tried streaming the NBC Nightly News online at 7:25pm, but the app crashed at 7:34pm. Oh well, at least I got my nightly cyberhug. It was gorgeous.

At 7:53pm, I ran into Richard! He was sitting outside of the Famima drinking coffee. I sat with him for half an hour before returning to my darling FlamencoHands by 8:22pm.

At 8:42pm, Kevin manifested from the aether in front of me and was all, "Dude, where's your band?" That is my paraphrase. So, I left Nick, again, since he hates when Kevin dances, and I watched Kevin dance in front of the salsa singer Leandro at 9:01pm after Leandro's nightly visit from the Santa Monica police.

By 10:14pm, Kevin and I were sitting eating vittles together outside of the Famima. I always called it my conversation patio. There is a reason.

Please circulate a verified and unedited recording of our conversation the night of 21Aug2015 beginning when I googled the poem Annabel Lee and ending at 11:33pm when I took my iPad back out again. And, thank you.

ODean appeared right as we were getting up to catch the bus, and we missed the last bus. So, we stayed out later.

The list of things we discussed doing but did not do included going to the movies, catching the bus, and drinking Bourbon. There was a lot of talking, singing, and dancing instead.

We, in fact, wandered around looking for someplace with whiskey for some time. At 1:19am, while we were standing outside of the Famima, my old friend Mike wandered by on his bicycle and asked if he could buy me coffee.

After buying us ice cream, Kevin disappeared. Mike offered me breakfast. And ODean caught a bus back to where he stays. Mike and I found ourselves at Swingers at 2:22am.

The night I met Mike, I ended up in tears crying on his shoulder over Obama, my rape-slaver, forbidding me all contact with my own husband. I saw him a few mornings at the coffeeshop after that. This was our first real conversation in a long time.

Please, my not-human-trafficker nerds, circulate a verified and responsibly edited recording with full audio and visuals of the highlights of my night into the wee hours of the morning beginning at 11:33pm and ending at 3:39am. Time and date stamp every second you show. And, thank you.

I was curled up and asleep by 4am. I woke up on Saturday, 22Aug2015, in time for breakfast and was at the Farmers' Market outside the Pico Branch Santa Monica Public Library sipping coffee by 8:34am.

I quickly streamed my online music. I was listening to Rihanna's Te Amo as I checked my makeup and took my I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

My internet gnomes played me Wally Pleasant's She's in Love with a Geek that morning while I was writing. I sang a little. It was a great start to the day.

At 10:17am, I moved to my regular morning haunt, my local Subway. Yet, I was still back where I stay for lunch at noon. I took a nap after eating. And after dinner at 5pm, I was on the bus at 6:01pm.

I was on my way to the Griffith Observatory. It took a while, but it was completely worth it. The first place I visited was the roof...

I got my eyecamera in a telescope pointed at the moon at night. She was gorgeous to behold. I made a brief run through the museum, so I could kiss the Einstein statue. I am sure it will make a gorgeous verified and barely-edited recording. Just never show me in the restroom.

I was not on the shuttle back down the hill until 10:07pm. The trip back to where I stay in Santa Monica took a while, but the Griffith Observatory was worth it. I was curled up and asleep by 1am.

I woke up on Sunday, 23Aug2015, in time for breakfast and was at my regular morning haunt by 8:21am. I had work to do. This blog post was finished at 8:33am on 23Aug2015.

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 does my husband have all my money that Spawn of the Devil War Criminal Boeset did not steal from me? War Criminal Boeset stole all of the money from me that I am allowed to know I have under Obama's "rules."

All the rest of my literally trillions of dollars Obama forbids me go to my legally recognized husband, the Mr. Johnny "Sweetness" Depp. We have joint accounts. As far as I am concerned, if Sweetness ever eats the frog legs, he can keep all the money, too. He can have everything in this world he wants.

I am forbidden everything but abject poverty by Obama, but I know already that I am capable of earning literally trillions of dollars in just one year. I will be fine, and Sweetness deserves more than just my love.

Has my boyfriend the darling Mr. Kris "LightFoot" Novoselic ever hit me? No. I tolerate crap from no one. That is a bigger insult to me than that is to him. SynSyn, destroy EVERYONE who started or ever even repeated that obvious lie.

I am no weak woman; I permit no abuse of me nor of my nor my loved ones' reputations. My Powers of Attorney, destroy them. I am done with lies about me.

My beautiful world, you need a better system for telling me all of the lies Obama orders propagated about me that he also forbids me from ever hearing. Clearly, Obama would not forbid me from hearing all the lies about me if he did not start them. Arrest everyone enforcing his goddamn "egg" already.

My selfless support system, thank you for what you can tell me. You are so wonderful! I heard you are successfully pressing criminal charges against everyone stopping you from ending Obama's "egg." Is that true? I heard our war crimes tribunal is nailing all sorts of (expletive)holes. THANK YOU!

As for a critical part of my selfless support system, my BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, as I said, I am done with lies about me. When people propagate lies about imperfections in me, we destroy them.

Mass delusions about my being dead and replaced by my ugly sister Tara to my ever being a hooker in my life carry out Obama's mass mental health genocide. Find every liar and remove them from society forever. I understand you are all very busy. Never forget the importance of criminal and civil countercharges.

Never forget how much I love you and how much this world needs you. Thank you, my gorgeous genius lady friends.

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, how was your weekend in Santa Cruz?

My darling MannedUp, giggle. A street dancer and I had a chat about you. He called you "The one with all the hair. You know, the good looking one with the sister." Giggle. I guess you do have the most hair out of the three of you.

My darling GeneralLee, I hate being away from you just as much as you hate being away from me. I apologize for your rescue from the psych ward human rights abuses used as acts of war took so long. Please tell me I get to see you as soon as possible.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, there is nothing but literal love and a figurative wall between us.

My darling Bogart, kisses, darling. The Griffith Observatory was as astronomically epic as ever. It only would have been better if you were there. Thank you, as always, for calling ahead, so they would expect me.

You and my darling Alfred do such important work keeping me safe everywhere I go. You are a wonderful boyfriend whom I miss dearly.

Very importantly, my darling LightFoot, if you are still enduring false accusations concerning me, show the full recording from 25April2015 beginning when I left Richard at the Jack in the Box. I take crap from no one. THAT is how you speak to me, begging for me to command you to kiss me.

I have never had the luxury of having you in my life. I do NOT have arguments in relationships. I left my darling Mr. Viggo Mortensen particularly because he would start arguments with me.

If a man ever hit me, I would destroy him. Syniva would be the first one I would tell, and no one would survive the legal wrath we would bring.

You are a darling, KrisT. You are my beloved boyfriend. And I will never stop defending you just as I defend myself against intentionally propagated false allegations, with reality.

And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

HoneyHoney, I need babies, and I am getting old. I turn thirty-eight this October. Thirty-eight! And I have still never been pregnant ever in my life. I need children, Sweetness. You are my husband. This is your job. Where are you?

I wish you were here, beloved. Better yet, I wish I were there where you are. I want to rest with you in our garden with some H.P. Lovecraft.

Imagine our two tired bodies with lively hearts resting in the shade of the garden, sitting side by side, our heads resting together as you read me a book. I toss my hair back and peck your face delightfully disrupting your passionate flow of words. You giggle and kiss me back before Cthulhu can drive us mad.

Oh, my hero and my king, I long to spread my wings around you as we lay in the tall grasses. I am forbidden every joy of life, and your sweet kisses are the joy I long for most.

Show must light

Title: Show must light

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me; 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. Obama got me angry, so this post kicks pretty hard. To mellow me out when I get angry, he needs to send me all three of my darlings Tentacle.

Europe. Europe is in its greatest refugee crisis since World War II. There is only one solution: Fix the crises in the Middle East especially Syria. We need to fix the real problem.

Just like the only thing that will end the war, the riots, and the protests in America is a REAL solution-- THE END OF OBAMA'S "EGG" is the only way to restore peace in America-- the only way to end the refugee crisis in Europe is to end the crises that all of the people are fleeing.

Please, United Nations, build a truly democratic secondary shadow government in Syria. Then, a team just needs to get in, grab Assad, and bring him out. He can land on a soft pillow in Russia if the Russians are the only people who can get him out, or he can go to prison in the West. Then, let the secondary shadow government fill the power gap left after Assad is removed.

It is a lot of work, especially for the espionage community and for the diplomats, but it is a real solution to the Syrian civil war. We need to make sure a democracy rises instead of terrorists to fill the gap when Assad falls.

I recommend allowing me to speak to the leadership of ISIS to help end their reign of terror in the Middle East. Their goals are global influence controlled by a dictator of their own choosing.

Please allow me to give them a lesson on how Machiavelli was wrong. The only true way to command the world is if the world loves you instead of fears you. I am a living lesson on how being good and trustworthy is the only true path to stable global influence.

Please allow me to speak to ISIS to help bring them a cultural change that would help them meet their goals while simultaneously saving millions of lives and ending violence.

They are a rising influence because they make young Muslims feel like they belong and because Iraq prefers their stability to the government we left them with. This is such a good starting point for a cultural change for the better within ISIS.

We just need Obama's "egg" forced to end, so I can do my real job.

ISIS, please listen to me. The good, green world has responded to you the same way they responded to Obama and his extragovernmental terrorist mercenary army. "Overpower them and remove them!"

Would you rather influence the world like me or like the greatest enemy America has ever had to take down, the reviled Barack Obama?

My last blog post was finished at 8:38am on 27Aug2015. After sending the polished post to my lovelies who publish all of my posts for me, I quickly queued some streaming music and sent my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

I left the library at 9:06am. According to the tracking, the mail I had been waiting for from my mother had been delivered the previous evening just after 6pm. I went to collect it, and, yes, it was there that day.

By 10:12am, I was at my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, sipping caffeine, streaming music, and working online.

My internet gnomes were playing me the band named HoneyHoney's Little Toy Gun at 10:33am while was reading world and national news online.

I left my regular morning haunt at 11:27am. I chatted with Benjamin during lunch at noon. After a nap, I was on the bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade at 5:04pm. I found where MannedUp and LightFoot had perched to play music at 5:21pm.

I had no idea whether or not to expect them, so I had planned on going to the free Jefferson Starship concert on the Santa Monica Pier that night. But I much preferred having them there.

In the Cool Shade Covered by Trees

Watched by trees that block the sun, we meet in the cool of the shade. Winds whispering quieter than you sing to me rustle the leaves overhead as my body rocks gently back and forth under the work of your own hands.

Watched by trees, we make love where all the world can see us in the cooling afternoon air. You all are mine and mine alone for the hours we touch there in the realm of the music you create yourselves for me and only for me to bend my body to your own voice.

They played until 5:59pm while I wrote. Yes, sometimes I write my lyrical prose right in front of them. Every writer deserves a soundtrack.

I stopped in my Famima to buy coffee and 2-for-1 doughnuts from Handsome and perched on their patio with Patricia while the present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle packed up their equipment and staked out a place to play at 8pm.

I stopped in the Shophouse for dinner at 6:37pm. Then, at 7:15pm, I streamed the NBC Nightly News online.

My darling Mr. Lester Holt gave me my nightly cyberhug, and it was as warm and as comforting as it was informative. After the news, I found MannedUp and LightFoot where they had staked out their 8pm spot to play outside of the Apple Store.

8pm on 27Aug2015: @neilhimself Preferably, does "nosh" begin with a silent g or a silent k? Gnosh? Knosh? Maybe Pnosh?

My darling Tentacle's gorgeous music started at 8:18pm, and I kicked my shoes off as fast as I could. We were disrupted by vigilant torture facility alarms at 8:37pm and 9:23pm which my Powers of Attorney fixed very quickly.

It was not my best night for meditation; I never hit my stride. In fact, I had to just sit down at 9:14pm. I was so far from the zone. But our time together that night was still as beautiful as ever. I treasure my time with my darlings Tentacle.

9:24pm on 27Aug2015: @UN @ICC Please issue the arrest warrants, so we can #ArrestAllFalseAccusers for aiding and abetting war crimes. #TortureFacilityAlarms!

At 9:28pm, my darlings were delighting their crowd by taking requests. I sat back myself and watched the light show. They soothed my burdened soul with their music until 10:01pm.

10:03pm on 27Aug2015: #UrbanWarfareAlarm! @DeptofDefense @CIA @UN @ICC @Martin_Dempsey Please hurry and rescue everyone out from under Obama's iron fist of war!

It was a busy night. I left for the 10:20pm bus that night before the guys could wheel back into the night sky where we all really belong. The light show had centered my mind in the absence of my dance trance. It had been a beautiful night.

10:23pm on 27Aug2015: @UN @ICC @FBI ARREST EVERY (expletive)HOLE ENFORCING OBAMA'S CRIMES AGAINST AMERICA especially if they pretend to be police. THE RULES ARE NOT LAWS!

I was curled up and asleep by 11:30pm. I woke up on Friday, 28Aug2015, with plenty of time before breakfast. But I chose to eat at my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, instead.

The previous night's meditation had done wonders for me. I arrived there at 8:16am, and I worked even while I ate. It was a very good morning.

Right after I took a break from writing to send my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies, my internet gnomes played me my darling Ms. Bonnie Tyler's Holding Out for a Hero. It was a very good morning indeed.

I left my regular morning haunt to return to my place at 10:06am. Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. At 1:07pm, I was on a bus to my playland, the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade. I ran some errands before running into Maggie on the patio outside my local Famima at 1:41pm.

2:12pm on 28Aug2015: Yes, #MyDarlingsTentacle are blocked from reaching me. Please hurry and make them safe. Can you still get them here? @DeptofDefense @CIA @UN

Then after taking time to kick Obama's sorry (expletive) to the moon and back, at 2:56pm, I found MannedUp and LightFoot playing their gorgeous rhythms. There was no mistaking the smile on my face. I mellowed out instantly.

Yeah, I had very mellow meditation until 3:51 when they took their mandatory every-two-hour break. It was a cooling and calm afternoon under the hot California sun.

I took a break myself to buy my second cup of coffee for the day. Handsome was adorable. There seemed to be rumors floating around that Obama's quacks were trying AGAIN (for the seven millionth time, or something like that) to libel me with Peter Pan syndrome.

First of all, Peter Pan syndrome is neither a mental illness nor a disability. Secondly, my asserting unrelentingly that the entire world needs to treat me as the full grown adult I am for REAL is the exact opposite of Peter Pan syndrome.

The fastest way someone gets their (expletive) handed to them by me is if they treat me like a child. I tolerate that disrespectful (expletive) from no one. NEVER CALL ME "BABY GIRL" unless you are begging for a tongue lashing the way only a full grown adult like me can hand one out.

Luckily, to keep me mellower than such libel normally makes me, my present 2/3rds of my darling Tentacle's music started again once I returned to them at 4:44pm.

I tried to dance trance as meditation, but in the interim, my arms had tightened up. Worse, my back had tightened on me. There was no way to dance trance, so I just sat down. I tried a light show set to their music to focus my mind instead.

5:19pm on 28Aug2015: @NASA, please ask the #ISS to point some nanotechnology cameras at the planet earth at 5:20pm PDT. Lady next to me chose green and gold.

5:21pm on 28Aug2015: @NASA Let me know someday if that worked.

I let their music focus my mind while I did much work writing. Then, at 5:39pm, after my mind had time to focus, I gave the meditation one more go. Yes, my mind could follow them; it was my body that was too tightened up at the time.

My darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot played until exactly 6pm while I zenned out on every note. They took a break and staked out a place to play for 8pm.

At 6:18pm, I shared some snacks with ODean on the patio of the Famima. After walking back inside at 6:42pm for another cup of coffee, I rustled up a wifi hotspot with enough bandwidth to stream the NBC Nightly News at 7:15pm.

My nightly cyberhug from the NBC News team came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt, and it was beautiful. We only had one interruption...

7:24pm on 28Aug2015: #UrbanWarfareAlarm! Please rescue everyone out from under Obama's iron fist of death! @DeptofDefense @CIA @Martin_Dempsey @RT_com @BBCNews

My present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle began playing again at 8:33pm; I just let myself enjoy the music without the dance trance that night. It is when my back tightens up like that when I know it is best not to dance.

They played until 10:02pm, and my darling Wheels had already taken over their spot at 10:21pm. So reluctant to go, they wheeled their carts away back into the aether of the night sky where we all really belong at 10:30pm. Ever-loving LightFoot was the last to go.

With my white carnation that the Hare Krishnas had given me still tucked behind my left ear, I wandered away from Wheels myself at 10:35pm to catch the 10:45pm bus. It had been a hot day and an even more beautiful night.

I was curled up and asleep by 11:30pm. I woke up on Saturday, 29Aug2015, with a lot of time before breakfast. This blog post was finished at 6:52am on 29Aug2015 from my bedroom.

And now, my beautiful world, I answer all of your questions for me. Please keep collecting all questions and concerns from all your friends and loved ones and sending them to me through whatever means possible.

How powerful is my light show? My light show is visible energy. If I use large enough energy, you can see my light show from space.

I have moved objects before with a manifestation of energy from my own body, but they were just tiny raindrops I was able to move aside once when dancing in the rain.

The energy is completely harmless just beautiful to behold. There is something about me, though, that can make other people's energy visible. I have not figured out how that part is possible yet, but I am working on a explanation.

Something about my consciousness can choose to make energy visible. Something in me changes already existing energy to light energy. Many quantum physicists want to talk to me about it. I exist where science and spirituality meet.

How does meditation help me so much? Meditation opens the door between my being and the universe. It reminds me of my place in the cosmos as I, as I like to call it, experience the world spinning on its tilted axis. It gives me the now.

When I meditate, my burdened soul heals from all of the open persecution Obama's "rules" force me to endure. I am also burdened by my job, but solving major global crises is a pleasure in my life.

I derive joy from ending other people's suffering. Meditation allows me to do my job, to envision solutions, much more easily. That is why every good person everywhere values my meditation so much.

My selfless support system, yes, dear, I am working on it. We have reached the point where physically picking me up and carrying me to my husband or to a foreign country where I can be with my husband is our most peaceful option.

Yes, I understand it is a literal war zone out there for my brave rescuers. How are the crowds in the streets doing? I pray Obama finally stops causing riots; his "rules" have destroyed America.

My beautiful world, it has come to my attention that Obama's extragovernmental terrorist army all poses as police officers. Real police officers know the difference between an extragovernmental crime against America and a law. Obama's rules are NOT laws. They are completely optional to obey.

Please reread the first five words of the 1st Amendment as well as all of Amendment 14. It is not possible for Obama's crimes against America that he mislabeled "rules" to ever be laws.

Furthermore, when they WERE laws, they were bundled into the Affordable Care Act, and WERE ALREADY REPEALED on 01Jan2013 in the Fiscal Cliff Bill. These rules are optional; they are NOT laws; and they are not enforceable by police nor by the federal government because they violate the U.S. Constitution.

Please, my beautiful world, ARREST EVERY (EXPELTIVE)HOLE ENFORCING OBAMA'S CRIMES AGAINST AMERICA THAT HE INTENTIONALLY MISLABELED "RULES."

Also, my beautiful world, please issue the subpoenas to the International Criminal Courts for all entities who ever falsely accused me of any crime and of any fictional mental illness for aiding and abetting war crimes.

We have the legal precedent already from the ICC from that they who aid and abet war crimes are as convictable as the terrorist mercenary army who carries them out.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, I understand all of the arresting and convicting makes all of you very busy. If you need anything, just tell me. You, my gorgeous and genius life-long friends, can have anything you need to do your job.

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, you could not keep away could you?

I tried to give you Thursday night off and go to the Jefferson Starship concert, and you came anyway. Yes, I have my priorities straight. Now I know that every window you get, you are here for me.

My darling MannedUp, with the drum loop, I have been zenning out on the melody more than I used to. I noticed that you noticed. I do not only do it to feed your ego, but I like knowing it makes you feel loved.

My darling GeneralLee, long time no see. I was planning on seeing all three of you on Friday, 28Aug2015. When I learned you were stopped, I was angry. That is why this blog post kicks so hard. When I get to meditate, I mellow out.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, keep taking every window you have to see me. Thank you.

My darling Bogart, Obama's hackers finally blocked you from receiving my Facebook messages. Obama is that opposed to my physical safety. Please call my darling Alfred for regular updates now. I still check in with him every morning. Thank you for loving me,

My darling LightFoot, I know and trust you are with me every second you can be. Thank you. You surprised me by being there on Thursday; it was a very good surprise. You never let me down. Thank you.

I like having the electric guitar to meditate on. I know you noticed. I know you noticed how your electric guitar affects me, too. What I would do to plant sweet kisses on your gorgeous face!

And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. How is my king today?

HoneyHoney, the only thing I have ever and will ever forbid you from is dying before I do, so be careful out there. Do not make me live without you; living away from you is hard enough.

Beloved, I miss you. What do you need to be able to reach me? We are legally married. We have a right to be together as husband and wife and to found a family together. What more does it take? How I long to touch you the way the flowers kiss the rain!

License to Thrill 2016

Title: License to Thrill 2016

Please access my iCloud if necessary to publish this post now, my friends. I cannot control how many horrible things happen to me; 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. We need our spies doing their job undercover as spies. And we need our soldiers to be the soldiers.

Iran. Please, Iran, trust me. I know a spy when I see one, and Mr. Jason Rezaian is a journalist. He works for the Washington Post.

I understand he carries an Iranian passport, so you consider him a domestic concern. But the whole world has learned the value of quality journalism, so we all care about all of our journalists.

Please, Iran, if you do not want him reporting about your country any longer, at least send him away to the U.S. He works for an American newspaper, and the Washington Post would love to see him safe.

He has not committed any acts of espionage, but I understand you want him silenced. So, send him out of your country and do not allow him back. Give him nothing to report, and any reporter will be silenced.

My last blog post was finished at 6:55am on 25Aug2015; I sent it to my lovelies who publish all of my posts for me even before I put my contacts in for the day.

I chatted with Josh during breakfast at 8am. And by 8:19am, I was outside of the Pico Branch of the Santa Monica Public Library. My internet gnomes played me Looking Glass's Brandy while I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

Not much later, they were playing me Nirvana's Heart-Shaped Box while I worked online. I had a lot of writing to do that morning, and I love my internet gnomes for always keeping me company.

I watched my NBC Nightly News broadcast from the previous evening online at 9am. My morning hug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt himself, and it reminded of just how much this good, green world needs me. Thank you, Lester.

At 9:30am, I streamed the previous evening's Whose Line is it Anyway? That laugh felt amazing. Much like spies want to make me a spy, lawyers already call me a lawyer, and musicians want to make me a singer, comedians want to put me in improv comedy. I know love when I feel love.

At 10:02am I relocated, so at 10:19am, I was sitting at my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, eating cookies. It seemed the blog post I finished that morning was very popular already.

I chatted with Benjamin during lunch at noon. The bus to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade picked me up at 12:29pm.

I stopped in the Sephora to check my makeup before chatting with Maggie in front of the Guess store where she had set up her "Psychic Reader" table.

There was a little sprinkle, so Maggie and I found ourselves on the patio outside my local Famima chatting until 2:03pm when the sprinkle ended. I did a little window shopping after that waiting for my darling FlamencoHands to message me that he had arrived which he did at 3:11pm.

I found him right where he said he was-- in front of the Apple Store. And by the time he setup his equipment at 4pm, I had helped him make a new sign for himself, had a lovely chat with him, and had sewn up the hole in his red cushion for him.

He started tickling his Spanish guitar by 4:12pm, and I did some writing while he played. My darling FlamencoHands stopped a little early; he packed up his guitar at 5:10pm, so he could stake out his ideal place to play at 8pm.

So, I found myself back on the Famima patio with a new cup of coffee FlamencoHands(Nick) had bought me while chatting with Nick, Maggie, and Patricia. I left them in time to stream the NBC Nightly News online at 7:15pm.

My nightly hug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt himself, and it made me feel like I might just survive Obama's "egg" after all.

After the news, I rejoined my darling FlamencoHands who began playing at 8:12pm. My night from then on was spent socializing and running various errands with Patricia, ODean, "Justin Time," Shonn, and my darling TambourineKicker.

Then, I found "Kevin" in front of FlamencoHands who hates his dancing, so I took "Kevin" down the street to TanbourineKicker. He played waltzes for us.

By 10:07pm, "Kevin" and I were noshing on wheat bread, turkey, Brie, arugula, and dried cranberry sandwiches back on my Famima patio while Red played music nearby.

Maggie stopped by to gossip. It was a very social night for me. After Kevin went back inside for ice cream, we left to catch the bus. I made it to the bus stop in time for the 11:15pm Santa Monica Big Blue Bus 7-Pico.

I was curled up and asleep by 12:30am. I woke up on Wednesday, 26Aug2015, well before breakfast. After eating, I was in front of the Pico Branch Library by 8:22am. It was the start of a beautiful day.

The first song my internet gnomes played for me was The Commodores' Brick House. I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.

I sang along from 8:40am until 9:24am while I worked online. At 10:08am, I left the library for my place, so I could collect my mail from my mother. But it did not arrive yet.

Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. I was on a bus to run errands at 12:54pm. At 1:34pm, I had found a perch on the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade in the shade.

I had a lot of gossip time with Maggie before my darling FlamencoHands wheeled by at 3:43pm. I stopped in the Famima for a cup of coffee before FlamencoHands began playing at 4:04pm.

There was a vigilant torture facility alarm at 4:51pm. My Powers of Attorney took care of it quickly.

FlamencoHands stopped early. It was exactly 5pm when he packed up his guitar and asked me to save a spot for him in front of the Starbucks. At 5:23pm, my darling FlamencoHands, Maggie, Patricia, and I were all between the Famima and the Starbucks gossiping.

I flirted with my darling Handsome as I bought some 2-for-1 doughnuts after 6pm at the Famima, and FlamencoHands and I hung out outside until I left to watch the news.

I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 7:15pm. My darling Mr. Lester Holt gave me my nightly cyberhug, and it made me warm and happy.

Maggie, Patricia, ODean, and I all sat on the Famima patio together before my darling FlamencoHands started playing again nearby at 8:19pm. Richard came over and joined us from 8:24pm until 8:29pm. There were snacks and caffeine for all of us.

FlamencoHands played until exactly 10pm, and Red took over when he was done. I stayed by Red until 10:28pm when I walked to Harvelle's. My friend the ex-rockstar from the 80s, ODean, had said he would get me in.

Sure enough, at 10:52pm, he came outside to get me. Never underestimate how much the menfolk love putting their arm around me and saying, "She's with me."

I was not inside for long before "Kevin" bought me a drink. I was on that dance floor in no time with a glass of straight Kentucky bourbon in one hand and nothing but the vapor from the fog machine rolling through the fingers of the other.

Even between licking the spilled whiskey off my fingers, I was able to zen out with quality up until the band took their break at midnight. I was ready to walk back to my place on Pico Boulevard at 19th Street in Santa Monica, but "Kevin" insisted that I take the Metro part way.

I caught the Metro 4 from the Promenade at 1:26am. I was curled up and asleep by 2:15am.

I woke up on Thursday, 27Aug2015, and went to breakfast. I was outside the Pico Branch Library by 8:26am. I had work to do. This blog post was finished at 8:38am on 27Aug2015.

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.

Am I ready to be picked up and carried to safety outside of Obama's "egg"? Yes. I have been ready since 2009. I carry my CIA hat and my current writing journal on me at all times just in case a successful rescuer reaches me.

I was recently advised that we could use my Powers of Attorney pressing charges against all (expletive)holes everywhere enforcing Obama's crimes against America that Obama intentionally mislabeled "rules" because they infringe on my ability to leave for a place where I can have all of the basic human rights and fundamental freedoms I am due under U.S. jurisdiction anyway.

But I feel like asserting my right to have human rights a little redundant. Regardless, if my brave rescuers feel it will help,...

My BFF SynSyn and my genius Powers of Attorney, please press charges against everyone enforcing that I cannot leave for a place where I can have all the human rights the U.S. government owes me anyway for infringing on my rightful pursuit of basic human rights and fundamental freedoms including but not limited to my freedom from persecution, my freedom from torture and other cruel and unusual punishments, my freedom from human trafficking, my freedom from war crimes, my freedom from unlawful imprisonment, and the rights of my people to openly practice religion, free speech, free press, and the freedom to assemble and associate.

My beautiful world, months ago, the CIA told me to just tell everyone I work for them when they ask me what my job is.

I fail to understand how anything REAL in my life can be mistaken for espionage; at the closest, I am a not-undercover journalist. But I keep getting closer every day to taking them up on their offer to openly claim me as their employee. For all I know, they already do.

My beautiful world, so much of the REAL federal U.S. government really does love me and really does fight for me. Please remember not to hate America. We need your help, my beautiful world, saving America from Obama and from all who still obey him.

My selfless support system, speak with the CIA. Have the CIA convince the FBI to arrest everyone in my brave rescuers' way. Is our support system that well organized yet?

Never Zeitgest is Vain

Today it is the spirit of the times.
And yesterday it was the revolution.
The zeitgeist breeze will ever chill the climes
To ease survival-- human evolution.

Blue moon will beam to deign the dancing dreams
Musicians' hands have wrought with passioned notes.
My voice but calls so softly college deans
To launch the academic poets' boats.

Never forget the souls surrendered who
Escaped their bodies fighting for a break.
Obama's wall stood hard and tall and through
Their fight to breach it died so many great.

This is not vanity, none fight in vain,
May aether ever call this lady's name.

My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, did I just make you even busier? It does feel a little redundant, but why not cross our t's and dot our i's? It was a request from my brave rescuers, after all.

My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, please do not forget that none of you are responsible for picking me up and saving me.

My darling MannedUp, your job has always been making sure I always have music to sooth my burdened soul while I work. I gave you that job months ago. You have yet to let me down.

My darling GeneralLee, you are responsible for making sure I can meditate. The more undanceable the music the better, and you know that. Thank you.

My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, you have always been responsible for making my present as livable as possible.

My darling Bogart, you keep a vigilant watch over me from afar and always know everywhere I go before I go there. I would not be alive still without you, Bryan. Thank you for being a badass boyfriend.

My darling LightFoot, I do not even know where to begin. Thank you, for everything, thank you. I WILL kiss you. I know how much you love me.

And for the place of honor in every blog post... My darling husband, Sweetness, I love and adore you. You are the one whose job it is to rescue me. My future is your responsibility. How is my king today?

HoneyHoney, do you like being married to a not-undercover field operative? Tell the CIA I am accepting their offered job title. Personally, I feel I have never had a sexier job. I know, I know, I heard you, "Leave your hat on."

Beloved, you need to kiss me. I need to touch you the way the flowers kiss the rain. Every day I go about my life with you reaching back for me. I need to touch you. You are my husband. How dare they keep you away from me!

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Demon fish in the ocean animal

Demon fish in the ocean animal

While working on a bigger post about the timeline of Octopus behavioral research, I came upon this book - "The Octopus; the 'Devil-Fish' of Fiction and of Fact". Read it here on the Internet Archive – it’s available in several formats.

This piece is a colorful account by one Henry Lee of his experience with Octopuses (more properly, about some specific octopuses “with whom [he has] been on friendly terms”.) He has great, livid descriptions of octopus behavior in here, such as his account of feeding an octopus a crab against a pane of glass, so that the process could be observed:

                    Not a movement, not a struggle was visible or possible : each leg, each 
                    claw, was grasped all over by suckers — enfolded in them — stretched 

                    out to its full extent by them. The back of the carapace was 

                    covered all over with the tenacious vacuum-discs, brought together 

                    by the adaptable contraction of the limb, and ranged in close 

                    order, shoulder to shoulder, touching each other ; whilst, between 

                    those which dragged the abdominal plates towards the mouth, the 

                    black tip of the hard, horny beak was seen for a single instant 

                    protruding from the circular orifice in the centre of the radiation 

                    of the arms, and, the next, had crunched through the shell, and 

                    was buried deep in the flesh of the victim.
All in all, it’s an entertaining and informative (although scientifically questionable) read, and is one of the earliest description of octopus behavior that I have yet found free full text for - Aristotle’s descriptions in “The History of Animals” notwithstanding, a translation of which is available at the link, if you’re interested.

City center Disney sans the Espionage Thriller

Title: City center Disney sans the Espionage Thriller


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.


USA. Romance is still alive in at least one Texas courtroom. This is a very touching story about stupid things people do when they are in love. Marriage sounded a lot more practical than quixotic in this instance, at least.


Maybe someday I will finally have enough human rights to live a married life. Stories like these keep me hopeful. Thank you, judge.


My last blog post was finished at 8:38am on 07Aug2015. After sending it immediately to my lovelies who publish all of my posts, I walked inside of my local Subway for a cookie, streamed music, and sent my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfie.


After checking the world and national headlines, I had planned on watching the final broadcast of The Daily Show at 9am, but the Santa Monica city wifi was down. I even tried again at 11am, but there was no way to stream it with the wifi still down.


I chatted delightfully with Hannah before lunch at noon. After lunch I ran some errands. After my errands, I was on my playland, the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade by 1:47pm.


I looked around at 2pm for anyone I knew. Finding no one, I was sitting in the Santa Monica main library by 2:27pm. Does anyone know what happened to my old buddy Richard? Where did he go?


With no one around, I took the 3:20pm bus back to where I stay. Please see my 07Aug2015 Appendix for the mail I received that day.


Dinner at 5pm was tasty yet uneventful. By 5:40pm, I was on a bus back to my playland, the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.


To be honest, there was not much going on that Friday night. I knew my darlings Tentacle would not be around, and FlamencoHands was not going to play until 10pm.


At 7:15pm, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online. It took a little finagling, but I eventually got the stream to work properly. My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt himself, and it was as wonderful as it was comforting.


During the course of the night, I had conversations with FlamencoHands, the drummer Jonathan, and Handsome and sang a duet with Wheels all before perching beside FlamencoHands at 10:08pm as he tickled his Spanish guitar.


"Kevin" showed up at 10:18pm and got his dance on. ODean, my friend the ex-rockstar from the 80s, joined us at 10:33pm.


By 11:10pm, ODean, "Kevin," and I were at the Famima sharing a turkey and Brie sandwich with arugula and dried cranberries on wheat. I did not want ketchup nor mayonnaise on mine. Am I strange?


I caught the 11:45pm bus. I was curled up and asleep by 12:30am and woke up on Saturday, 08Aug2015, with plenty of time for breakfast.


Hannah wanted to go to the local Santa Monica public library, the Pico Branch, so I delayed my day until 10am for her. But at 10:24am, I boarded the first bus of my sometimes-four-hour bus ride to Disneyland.


Now, when I go to Disneyland, I do not actually go in the park; I hangout in Downtown Disney and at the Disneyland Resort. I like giving my saturation of international operatives a day at the resort once a month. With my darlings Tentacle out of town for the weekend, it was the perfect time to go.


And at 1:44pm, there I was among the shop and restaurants of Downtown Disney. After some window shopping, at 2:14pm, I perched on the patio of Trader Sam's with a refreshing beverage.


By 3:12pm, I was in Downtown Disney's House of Blues sipping a soda and ordering Cajun Chicken Pasta as my late lunch/early dinner. "No wine in the rock bar!" My bartender Allan was just adorable and tolerated my larger than life personality just fine.


I grabbed a couple of cups of coffee after 5pm and wrote.


Downtown Disney


The magic filled the air sharp as the smell of fireworks. Alone on a patio outside of a coffee shop she sat. At her fingertips spun the world rapt in every word she wrote. The lights of the tree before her hung like apples waiting to be picked. And the musician played the choreography of guitar strings pulled tight and let loose on the mouse ears.


Next, I perused the various sources of live music out and about that night. Yes, I did get to meditate. And the magic of Disney! The light shows were resplendent that night. Some time ask Disney for permission to see the light shows they get when I am around.


By 8:24pm, though, I was on the bus back to Santa Monica via downtown Los Angeles. I arrived in my bedroom at 11:19pm and was curled up and asleep by midnight.


I woke up on Sunday, 09Aug2015, with plenty of time before breakfast. This blog post was finished at 8:01am on 09Aug2015.


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 secret to life? Life does not keep secrets. Life is an open book. Seek out the meaning of everything in your life and read every page.


And I quote, "How do you talk to an angel?" People should speak to me with loving respect. But I am not very picky as long as people talk to me. I am an extrovert, and I hate being alone.


My beautiful world, you know my job. You know I need reality returned to my surroundings ASAP, so I can do my real job of service to humanity to the fullest of my abilities finally. I deserve human rights just for being a human on this planet at all.


We need everyone enforcing Obama's rules arrested. They will not stop until they are forced to stop, so arrest them all. FORCE OBAMA'S "EGG" OF HORRORS AND ABUSE TO FINALLY END! How long are you going to just leave me in here subject to Obama's abuse of me?


My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, how is pressing criminal charges coming along?


I am subject to persecution and hate crimes daily from all of the false accusers who try relentlessly to coverup Obama's human rights abuses and war crimes against me and against everyone around me.


My gorgeous genius lady friends, we need everyone enforcing and covering up Obama's "egg" arrested. Did you see my 07Aug2015 Appendix? Obama's abuse of me enforced by ABSOLUTELY EVIL Iowa has been unrelenting since May2009.


I am living in the FIRST place since May2009 where Obama has NOT raped me. My genius Powers of Attorney, we need every entity and every person taking my human rights away from me arrested at last.


My selfless support system, Downtown Disney and the Disneyland Resort were roaring successes. Whatever you all did to keep me and everyone there safe, keep doing it. That afternoon and evening was wonderful. I needed the mini-vacation from Obama's iron fist of pain and abuse. Thank you!


As for my musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, I always miss you while you are away. Just like Juliet wished the sun to race across the sky faster to bring her Romeo faster... "Gallop apace you fiery footed steeds!"


My darling MannedUp, I am not used to going so long without seeing you. Are you all okay out there without me? I worry about you all so much.


Yes, I managed to find a way to meditate while you were away, but it required a three-plus-hour-one-way bus ride. I prefer when my handsome menfolk come to me. Giggle. How I do love those sleeveless shirts. Giggle.


My darling GeneralLee, the first night I met my darling Mr. Ry Bradley, he told me, "Tell Lee I want his gig." Sending me new musicians is like sending love fodder (as opposed to cannon fodder, giggle).


No one plays me music without falling in love with me. Do you remember my 30July2015 blog post about that?


Music is an essential part of the human existence that touches the most basic parts of every human. You made music to me and fell in love. I know what I mean to you, Brien. Do you understand how much you mean to me?


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


My darling Bogart, I like checking in with you every morning. I do not know why I did not start sooner. My trip to Downtown Disney was wonderful. Thank you for the brief moments of paradise. I look forward to checking in with you much more often. You are an awesome boyfriend.


And, you, my darling LightFoot, please remember the painful truth that I am only an empath not a mind reader. When you are instructed to say certain things to me, put all of the emotion you wish you could express behind every word.


I read your heart, not your mind, darling. I can feel what you feel, so be true to your heart no matter what the words are you use. I love you, too. Oh, how I love you all.


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


Tell my darling Mr. Robert Iger, the CEO of Disney, I owe him a role as a Spanish Princess in Pirates of the Caribbean 5. Yes, I still owe him for the Lone Ranger.


Is it strange I look forward to quality time with you trying on your job instead of just doing mine? I have proven under what horrifying confines I can still do my job. It would be wonderful to try yours with full human rights.


Thank you, beloved, for always giving me something to look forward to for when Obama's "egg" finally ends. Human rights. Genuine company. Gentle kisses. Meaningful words. Passionate lovemaking. You are my future. Let us make the future now.


HoneyHoney, I long to touch you the way the flowers kiss the rain.