EXHIBIT A: My Bedroom
1: Very uncomfortable, rickety, regular-length twin bed with two pillows that must be used simultaneously for effect
2: One end table
3: “ME” art by me
4: Copy of LADY MOOD 11: I Jerked Off, a mini menstrual memoir by me
Not visible in picture:
1. Left-where-last-used vibrator and a nearly empty bottle of lube*, lid left open in haste
2. Floor-to-ceiling cat condo
3. Toilet seat I’ve refused to fix for six years that will fall down immediately and hit your vulnerable junk
PLEASE NOTE: I have removed the gigantic “DEAD INSIDE” sign that was the direct focal point from the bed. This is clearly substantial emotional growth in the direction of human intimacy.
PLEASE ALSO NOTE: I sometimes remember to mention that thing about the toilet seat ahead of time. But then again, sometimes I forget.
*The Ronnie D Story
I'm committing to things; come see them!
Check out my current calendar here.
And stay tuned cause I'll be adding more shows later this week (hopefully). I'd do it now, but I've seriously outworn my welcome at this cafe.
If you haven't been out to a show in awhile, PLEASE come to one of these. I can guarantee* you will not be disappointed.
*This is not a legally binding statement.
I mean, I get her breakfast ALL the time; you'd think she could do it for me just once.
So I've been watching tenant makeup tutorials on Pornhub. I wanna make a good first impression.
Apparently, the trick is to use eyeliner and spit to draw attention away from your credit history and lack of verifiable income.
Hmmm. . .
*tries to spit in hand but is too dehydrated from all the coffee*
*grabs her tent and a bucket instead*
PS: My apologies to the cafe and its patrons fresh from Sunday service for using the wi-fi at a table directly by the front entrance to work on this blog.
In Case You Were Wondering . . .
Sometimes Ronnie D writes funny stuff. Sometimes she writes desperate teenage prose. Most times she just slams her feeble, little woman-hand onto the keyboard in an attempt to feel something, anything.