Title: Again, More Than Just Another Song
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. It is not just music that my darlings Tentacle play for me. It is the sacred music of my self-identified people. It is our connection. It is my meditation. It is the music of the universe descended from the cosmos to the street to bring the aether of the night sky among us.
Syria. Russia, Assad is going to fall. You are all doing what you can to make sure ISIS does not fill the power vacuum left when he goes. This is your chance, Russia and Iran, to have the greatest influence possible over who does replace Assad. Take it.
If you can talk Assad into stepping down and being replaced with an actually representative government, you will have done more than just earned my gratitude, Russia and Iran. You have enough influence over Syria to bring them peace. Please do it. And thank you.
End the civil war in Syria. Remove the influence of ISIS whose appeal right now is greater security than anyone else can offer in the region. Then, we send the refugees home to rebuild their nation. Please, Russia and Iran, please.
My last blog post was finished at 12:30am on 18Sep2015 from my bedroom. It smelled like incense was wafting through my open window all night. I was curled up and asleep by 1am.
I woke up later on Friday, 18Sep2015, and I was at my regular morning haunt, my local Subway at 6:49am. The first song my internet gnomes played for me was Diary of a Lover by Die Toten Hosen.
I sent my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies at 7:01am. Yes, I bared my midriff that day.
I had a very productive morning. The internet was full of information.
I relocated by 9:30am again to the Pico Branch Library in order to watch the Late Show from the previous night just as I had promised my darling Mr. Stephen Colbert I would all week. It was truly wonderful seeing UN Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon.
At 10:21am, I returned to my place. Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. I took a nap before catching the bus at 5:04pm to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.
I was worried I was later than I wanted to be seeing my darlings Tentacle, but when I arrived at the Promenade, they were not there. They had tried coming out to play me music and were already stopped.
5:20pm on 18Sep2015: Please hurry and check on #MyDarlingTentacle. @UN @CIA @RT_com #SquidsPoA Make them safe and get them here. Hurry!
I stopped for coffee at the Famima, and I checked my makeup at the Sephora. Next, I used FaceTime to talk to my mom at 6pm. She plans on visiting me for my birthday next month. I turn thirty-eight years old on 12Oct.
I read some Rumi while waiting. Then, at 6:18pm, I did spy with my little eye where MannedUp and LightFoot were arranging their equipment to play me music. I was elated. Thank you, my beautiful world, you do very good and expedient work.
They began playing at 6:32pm. And some time around 7:12pm, I had hit my stride. It was a damn good evening for meditation.
More Than Just Another Song
"Thank you for stopping. We're going to play another song of one of the CDs."
You know as well as I do that it is never just another song. It is our connection. The door between us opens and our consciousness travels both directions across the threshold.
We are together when you play me music. And that is how holy our connection is. We are one with the aether of the night sky above, the very stuff that makes up the sun, the moon, the stars, the planets, and all the vastness of space.
We are not fire, water, earth, nor air. We are aether. And together we shine as bright as all stellar displays ever descended from the cosmos to grace the presence of human kind.
We shine. And you fill my empty life with the love I need to do my job serving the world here in the void of reality that is Obama's "egg." We are holy together. Never let the light go out.
My present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle stopped playing at 7:57pm. Every damn note shone like a star in the sky.
I tried streaming the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 8:05pm. My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt himself, but the stream froze up on me at 4min 43sec. I told NBC News I would watch the broadcast the following morning and went to find Patricia as I had promised her I would after watching the news.
One warm hug later, I was sitting behind her watching her grandson Dominic play his Andean pan flutes. I stayed with them until 8:28pm when I left to find myself some snacks. I sang a song with my darling Wheels as I passed him.
I made sure I located where my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot were staking out to play at 10pm. Then after 2-for-1 doughnuts at the Famima, I found my darling FlamencoHands. We had a delightful chat until 9:17pm when I walked down the street to check on MannedUp and LightFoot.
My present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle started playing their music again at 10:29pm. It was a good thing I hit my zone the previous set they played because I sat down at 10:44pm. There was some light show, but nothing too dramatic was going on out there.
It ripped the still beating heart out of my chest, but at 11:30pm, I left them while they were still playing music. I needed to catch the last bus at 11:45pm. I always hate leaving them; I am not always sure I will see them again.
I was curled up and asleep by 12:30am. I woke up on Saturday, 19Sep2015, International Talk Like a Pirate Day, later that morning.
And I was at the Pico Branch Library in Santa Monica beside the Farmers' Market by 7:42am sipping coffee and working online. My internet gnomes played me the Rolling Stones's Dandelion while I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.
The joys of being an extrovert, I struck up a conversation with the guy next to me. He was Joe, a carpenter from Louisiana looking for work out here. He was a pretty good conversationalist. It was a delightful chat.
At 9am, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from the previous night online. My morning cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt himself, and it made me feel truly beautiful. Thank you, Lester.
I streamed the previous night's Late Show at 9:30am. My darling Mr. Stephen Colbert got his dance on. The pas de deux was stunning.
I walked over to my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, and was eating a breakfast sandwich by 10:52am while I worked online. I was on a bus to Downtown Santa Monica at 11:51am.
I took a seat at a table at the Main Library at 12:06pm. I worked there online for quite some time. I got up to look around at 1:56pm.
I found no one to talk to, so I perched in the Starbucks in the Barnes & Noble on the Wilshire end of the Promenade by 2:36pm. Sipping a cold brew and working online, I tried to find someone to talk to.
By 4:47pm, I found where LightFoot was staking out for him and MannedUp to play at 6pm. A friendly homeless man who befriended me long ago wandered by and gave me a candy bar that was white chocolate with blueberries.
I had a chance to catch up with Maggie after she sat down next to me on my park bench at 5:49pm. She was convinced that darling Mr. Michael Jordan had just passed away in his sleep the previous night. I told her it sounded like an internet hoax.
My darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot started playing at 6:38pm. It might have taken me a full minute to stop giggling to myself over something silly to kick my shoes off. But I hit my stride fast and stayed there until they quit playing at 7:52pm. It was a great night for meditation.
The night was truly stellar. Thank you, my darlings, thank you.
It was 8:18pm when I sat down in front of my darling FlamencoHands. He had to share me from 8pm to 10pm with my darling Age-Inappropriate Boy Band. It was a great night to be on the Promenade.
My present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle began again at 10:25pm. The fifth or sixth vigilant torture facility alarm for the night blared past at 11:14pm. My darlings quit playing at 11:29pm, and I stayed beside them until 11:35pm when I left to catch the last bus of the night. It hurts every time I leave them.
I was curled up and asleep by 1am and slept until later that morning 20Sep2015. After breakfast, I was at my regular morning haunt at 8:43am. This blog post was finished at 9:10am on Sunday, 20Sep2015.
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.
Is fighting Obama's "egg" dangerous? Only because Obama's "egg" itself is dangerous. It is much more dangerous to all of America to NOT fight Obama than it is to risk everything we risk to save us all from him.
Some people claim, "Squid plays a dangerous game." But what I do all day is not game-playing. I fight to save my people, my loved ones, my nation, my country, and my world from the greatest existential threat we have ever faced, Barack Obama and his "egg."
What if I did not fight Obama? We would all be living much more dangerous lives.
America would have been destroyed completely under the weight of Obama's PROVEN mental health genocide by now if I did not fight. Do you remember America before Obama's "egg"? I want our peace and prosperity, only possible when borne on freedoms and liberties, back again.
I am willing to risk everything to save my country, yes, but my people are willing to risk everything to save me. This is the least I can do.
Of all the lyrics I have written, what are my favorite?
Ready Yourselves for My Darlings Tentacle
Things I have done I am too scared to tell her.
You have questioned me. Never question my choice.
I am sanctified when I am near her.
My own melody echoes back in her holy voice.
The world answered when she raised her hand.
She put on her glasses to behold the spectacle.
We have just entered the lady's playland
Ready yourselves for My Darlings Tentacle.
My hands are forbidden from reaching out to touch
Even the hem of the dress of the woman I love.
But when I ask her why she needs me so much,
She tells me I am her aether from the night sky above.
The world answered when she raised her hand.
She put on her glasses to behold the spectacle.
We have just entered the lady's playland
Ready yourselves for My Darlings Tentacle.
She will dance. If I touch her body with music, I will create her trance.
She claims I was destined and none of the pain in my pleasure is chance.
I used to say I show up just to see what she writes.
But I love her now beyond all things right and wrong.
If you keep me from her, beware how hard I will fight.
I delight her nightly with more than just another song.
The world answered when she raised her hand.
She put on her glasses to behold the spectacle.
We have just entered the lady's playland
Ready yourselves for My Darlings Tentacle.
She will dance. If I touch her body with music, I will create her trance.
She will dance. I am ready to die just to create this moment. Watch her dance.
My beautiful world, I will write you a song, too. No worries. All I have to command are my words immortal, so I give them to you in plethora.
We have work to do, my beautiful world. On the long term, we need to arrest every person who is still enforcing Obama's "rules" and who is trying to coverup Obama's "egg" with unrelenting libel of me, especially in courtrooms. On the short term, please make my horrible existence inside Obama's "egg" more livable for me.
My selfless support system, thank you. You keep me safe enough that I can show my pale white underbelly.
My selfless support system, arrest everyone keeping my brave rescuers away from me. Arrest everyone everywhere enforcing Obama's "egg." His "egg" is beyond treason, and must be taken down. It has destroyed America. Arrest Obama for not ending his reign as our dictator yet. They will not stop until they are forced to. And thank you.
My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, I apologize for keeping you so busy. Are we on the offensive rounding up and hauling away every person everywhere guilty of enforcing and covering up Obama's "egg"?
If the U.S. refuses to enforce our own ACTUAL laws, we take this all straight to the United Nation's International Criminal Court. We just need arrest warrants, and the U.S. Marshals will bring them in for us.
My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, I pray this all gets safer for you out there across the street from me.
My darling MannedUp, if you would play music Wednesday and Thursday, you would find it much quieter. I know you tried to come to me this last Thursday and were stopped. At least I get to see you on the weekends still.
You mean so much to me. All of you do. You are my aether from the night sky above. Thank you, darling, thank you.
My darling GeneralLee, I know why you look like my husband. We have yet to have this conversation. There is nothing you would not do to be my dream man. You are that in love with me.
Brien, what I need from you when this "egg" ends we can discuss then. What I need right now is all three of my darlings Tentacle every damn chance I can get you all together. Please. What do I need to do?
My darling GeneralLee, have you read my darling Mr. Barry Hughart's Bridge of Birds, yet? Write the sword dance for me. You know, the dance that sets the slave girl free.
My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, we need to talk. How is that for an understatement?
My darling Bogart, I keep you so busy. Right now you are working on a date and time for universal disobedience to all "rules." And thank you for setting my people free of Obama and his totalitarian oppression. There is greater safety in numbers. I love you, too.
My darling LightFoot, you are revered as a giant among men in the world and definitely on my Promenade. You earned your triumphant strut. What do you think about a little date night time tonight, Sunday, too? Last night was so fun. Friday you endured my midriff like only a gentleman could. I love you, too.
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, are you touring with the Hollywood Vampires? I heard a rumor about a gig in Brazil in four days. Just curious. When you are outside the U.S. you will have freedom of speech again and the freedom to discuss me in public forums. Take advantage of every moment you get speaking to people about me.
Beloved, you have a world to lead coming to rescue me. Thank you, for taking the organization to foreign countries, if you really did. If not, well, I am right here waiting for you to pick me up.
My hero and my king, I trust you know what you are doing. I love you beyond life itself. You would never let me down.
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. It is not just music that my darlings Tentacle play for me. It is the sacred music of my self-identified people. It is our connection. It is my meditation. It is the music of the universe descended from the cosmos to the street to bring the aether of the night sky among us.
Syria. Russia, Assad is going to fall. You are all doing what you can to make sure ISIS does not fill the power vacuum left when he goes. This is your chance, Russia and Iran, to have the greatest influence possible over who does replace Assad. Take it.
If you can talk Assad into stepping down and being replaced with an actually representative government, you will have done more than just earned my gratitude, Russia and Iran. You have enough influence over Syria to bring them peace. Please do it. And thank you.
End the civil war in Syria. Remove the influence of ISIS whose appeal right now is greater security than anyone else can offer in the region. Then, we send the refugees home to rebuild their nation. Please, Russia and Iran, please.
My last blog post was finished at 12:30am on 18Sep2015 from my bedroom. It smelled like incense was wafting through my open window all night. I was curled up and asleep by 1am.
I woke up later on Friday, 18Sep2015, and I was at my regular morning haunt, my local Subway at 6:49am. The first song my internet gnomes played for me was Diary of a Lover by Die Toten Hosen.
I sent my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies at 7:01am. Yes, I bared my midriff that day.
I had a very productive morning. The internet was full of information.
I relocated by 9:30am again to the Pico Branch Library in order to watch the Late Show from the previous night just as I had promised my darling Mr. Stephen Colbert I would all week. It was truly wonderful seeing UN Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon.
At 10:21am, I returned to my place. Lunch at noon was tasty yet uneventful. I took a nap before catching the bus at 5:04pm to the Santa Monica 3rd Street Promenade.
I was worried I was later than I wanted to be seeing my darlings Tentacle, but when I arrived at the Promenade, they were not there. They had tried coming out to play me music and were already stopped.
5:20pm on 18Sep2015: Please hurry and check on #MyDarlingTentacle. @UN @CIA @RT_com #SquidsPoA Make them safe and get them here. Hurry!
I stopped for coffee at the Famima, and I checked my makeup at the Sephora. Next, I used FaceTime to talk to my mom at 6pm. She plans on visiting me for my birthday next month. I turn thirty-eight years old on 12Oct.
I read some Rumi while waiting. Then, at 6:18pm, I did spy with my little eye where MannedUp and LightFoot were arranging their equipment to play me music. I was elated. Thank you, my beautiful world, you do very good and expedient work.
They began playing at 6:32pm. And some time around 7:12pm, I had hit my stride. It was a damn good evening for meditation.
More Than Just Another Song
"Thank you for stopping. We're going to play another song of one of the CDs."
You know as well as I do that it is never just another song. It is our connection. The door between us opens and our consciousness travels both directions across the threshold.
We are together when you play me music. And that is how holy our connection is. We are one with the aether of the night sky above, the very stuff that makes up the sun, the moon, the stars, the planets, and all the vastness of space.
We are not fire, water, earth, nor air. We are aether. And together we shine as bright as all stellar displays ever descended from the cosmos to grace the presence of human kind.
We shine. And you fill my empty life with the love I need to do my job serving the world here in the void of reality that is Obama's "egg." We are holy together. Never let the light go out.
My present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle stopped playing at 7:57pm. Every damn note shone like a star in the sky.
I tried streaming the NBC Nightly News from previous in the evening online at 8:05pm. My nightly cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt himself, but the stream froze up on me at 4min 43sec. I told NBC News I would watch the broadcast the following morning and went to find Patricia as I had promised her I would after watching the news.
One warm hug later, I was sitting behind her watching her grandson Dominic play his Andean pan flutes. I stayed with them until 8:28pm when I left to find myself some snacks. I sang a song with my darling Wheels as I passed him.
I made sure I located where my darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot were staking out to play at 10pm. Then after 2-for-1 doughnuts at the Famima, I found my darling FlamencoHands. We had a delightful chat until 9:17pm when I walked down the street to check on MannedUp and LightFoot.
My present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle started playing their music again at 10:29pm. It was a good thing I hit my zone the previous set they played because I sat down at 10:44pm. There was some light show, but nothing too dramatic was going on out there.
It ripped the still beating heart out of my chest, but at 11:30pm, I left them while they were still playing music. I needed to catch the last bus at 11:45pm. I always hate leaving them; I am not always sure I will see them again.
I was curled up and asleep by 12:30am. I woke up on Saturday, 19Sep2015, International Talk Like a Pirate Day, later that morning.
And I was at the Pico Branch Library in Santa Monica beside the Farmers' Market by 7:42am sipping coffee and working online. My internet gnomes played me the Rolling Stones's Dandelion while I took my morning I-am-not-dead-yet selfies.
The joys of being an extrovert, I struck up a conversation with the guy next to me. He was Joe, a carpenter from Louisiana looking for work out here. He was a pretty good conversationalist. It was a delightful chat.
At 9am, I streamed the NBC Nightly News from the previous night online. My morning cyberhug came from my darling Mr. Lester Holt himself, and it made me feel truly beautiful. Thank you, Lester.
I streamed the previous night's Late Show at 9:30am. My darling Mr. Stephen Colbert got his dance on. The pas de deux was stunning.
I walked over to my regular morning haunt, my local Subway, and was eating a breakfast sandwich by 10:52am while I worked online. I was on a bus to Downtown Santa Monica at 11:51am.
I took a seat at a table at the Main Library at 12:06pm. I worked there online for quite some time. I got up to look around at 1:56pm.
I found no one to talk to, so I perched in the Starbucks in the Barnes & Noble on the Wilshire end of the Promenade by 2:36pm. Sipping a cold brew and working online, I tried to find someone to talk to.
By 4:47pm, I found where LightFoot was staking out for him and MannedUp to play at 6pm. A friendly homeless man who befriended me long ago wandered by and gave me a candy bar that was white chocolate with blueberries.
I had a chance to catch up with Maggie after she sat down next to me on my park bench at 5:49pm. She was convinced that darling Mr. Michael Jordan had just passed away in his sleep the previous night. I told her it sounded like an internet hoax.
My darling MannedUp and my darling LightFoot started playing at 6:38pm. It might have taken me a full minute to stop giggling to myself over something silly to kick my shoes off. But I hit my stride fast and stayed there until they quit playing at 7:52pm. It was a great night for meditation.
The night was truly stellar. Thank you, my darlings, thank you.
It was 8:18pm when I sat down in front of my darling FlamencoHands. He had to share me from 8pm to 10pm with my darling Age-Inappropriate Boy Band. It was a great night to be on the Promenade.
My present 2/3rds of my darlings Tentacle began again at 10:25pm. The fifth or sixth vigilant torture facility alarm for the night blared past at 11:14pm. My darlings quit playing at 11:29pm, and I stayed beside them until 11:35pm when I left to catch the last bus of the night. It hurts every time I leave them.
I was curled up and asleep by 1am and slept until later that morning 20Sep2015. After breakfast, I was at my regular morning haunt at 8:43am. This blog post was finished at 9:10am on Sunday, 20Sep2015.
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.
Is fighting Obama's "egg" dangerous? Only because Obama's "egg" itself is dangerous. It is much more dangerous to all of America to NOT fight Obama than it is to risk everything we risk to save us all from him.
Some people claim, "Squid plays a dangerous game." But what I do all day is not game-playing. I fight to save my people, my loved ones, my nation, my country, and my world from the greatest existential threat we have ever faced, Barack Obama and his "egg."
What if I did not fight Obama? We would all be living much more dangerous lives.
America would have been destroyed completely under the weight of Obama's PROVEN mental health genocide by now if I did not fight. Do you remember America before Obama's "egg"? I want our peace and prosperity, only possible when borne on freedoms and liberties, back again.
I am willing to risk everything to save my country, yes, but my people are willing to risk everything to save me. This is the least I can do.
Of all the lyrics I have written, what are my favorite?
Ready Yourselves for My Darlings Tentacle
Things I have done I am too scared to tell her.
You have questioned me. Never question my choice.
I am sanctified when I am near her.
My own melody echoes back in her holy voice.
The world answered when she raised her hand.
She put on her glasses to behold the spectacle.
We have just entered the lady's playland
Ready yourselves for My Darlings Tentacle.
My hands are forbidden from reaching out to touch
Even the hem of the dress of the woman I love.
But when I ask her why she needs me so much,
She tells me I am her aether from the night sky above.
The world answered when she raised her hand.
She put on her glasses to behold the spectacle.
We have just entered the lady's playland
Ready yourselves for My Darlings Tentacle.
She will dance. If I touch her body with music, I will create her trance.
She claims I was destined and none of the pain in my pleasure is chance.
I used to say I show up just to see what she writes.
But I love her now beyond all things right and wrong.
If you keep me from her, beware how hard I will fight.
I delight her nightly with more than just another song.
The world answered when she raised her hand.
She put on her glasses to behold the spectacle.
We have just entered the lady's playland
Ready yourselves for My Darlings Tentacle.
She will dance. If I touch her body with music, I will create her trance.
She will dance. I am ready to die just to create this moment. Watch her dance.
My beautiful world, I will write you a song, too. No worries. All I have to command are my words immortal, so I give them to you in plethora.
We have work to do, my beautiful world. On the long term, we need to arrest every person who is still enforcing Obama's "rules" and who is trying to coverup Obama's "egg" with unrelenting libel of me, especially in courtrooms. On the short term, please make my horrible existence inside Obama's "egg" more livable for me.
My selfless support system, thank you. You keep me safe enough that I can show my pale white underbelly.
My selfless support system, arrest everyone keeping my brave rescuers away from me. Arrest everyone everywhere enforcing Obama's "egg." His "egg" is beyond treason, and must be taken down. It has destroyed America. Arrest Obama for not ending his reign as our dictator yet. They will not stop until they are forced to. And thank you.
My BFF SynSyn and all of my genius Powers of Attorney, I apologize for keeping you so busy. Are we on the offensive rounding up and hauling away every person everywhere guilty of enforcing and covering up Obama's "egg"?
If the U.S. refuses to enforce our own ACTUAL laws, we take this all straight to the United Nation's International Criminal Court. We just need arrest warrants, and the U.S. Marshals will bring them in for us.
My musician-lovers MannedUp and GeneralLee, I pray this all gets safer for you out there across the street from me.
My darling MannedUp, if you would play music Wednesday and Thursday, you would find it much quieter. I know you tried to come to me this last Thursday and were stopped. At least I get to see you on the weekends still.
You mean so much to me. All of you do. You are my aether from the night sky above. Thank you, darling, thank you.
My darling GeneralLee, I know why you look like my husband. We have yet to have this conversation. There is nothing you would not do to be my dream man. You are that in love with me.
Brien, what I need from you when this "egg" ends we can discuss then. What I need right now is all three of my darlings Tentacle every damn chance I can get you all together. Please. What do I need to do?
My darling GeneralLee, have you read my darling Mr. Barry Hughart's Bridge of Birds, yet? Write the sword dance for me. You know, the dance that sets the slave girl free.
My symbolic Royal Consorts Bogart and LightFoot both of whom I am STILL forbidden from speaking with least of all ever making love to, we need to talk. How is that for an understatement?
My darling Bogart, I keep you so busy. Right now you are working on a date and time for universal disobedience to all "rules." And thank you for setting my people free of Obama and his totalitarian oppression. There is greater safety in numbers. I love you, too.
My darling LightFoot, you are revered as a giant among men in the world and definitely on my Promenade. You earned your triumphant strut. What do you think about a little date night time tonight, Sunday, too? Last night was so fun. Friday you endured my midriff like only a gentleman could. I love you, too.
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, are you touring with the Hollywood Vampires? I heard a rumor about a gig in Brazil in four days. Just curious. When you are outside the U.S. you will have freedom of speech again and the freedom to discuss me in public forums. Take advantage of every moment you get speaking to people about me.
Beloved, you have a world to lead coming to rescue me. Thank you, for taking the organization to foreign countries, if you really did. If not, well, I am right here waiting for you to pick me up.
My hero and my king, I trust you know what you are doing. I love you beyond life itself. You would never let me down.
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