Former member of three-piece, Grammy-snubbed band “Modern Birds,” Rose was forced to leave due to an insatiable desire to be an active participant in bukkake circles, not just the person who sits lazily in the middle. Her vigilance towards her craft left her suffering from chronic carpal tunnel that affected her ability to hit the necessary three tambourine notes per song.
Left with little hope for her future, she followed the pipe dream of being a makeup artist with the intentions of helping other women fool men into thinking they are not ugly just as she had since hitting puberty, but the majority of her clients looked like the after photos of someone who had been struck by lightning and that quickly went down the toilet. Like everyone else who had dropped out of college and failed at everything they had ever pursued, she succumbed to the restaurant industry, where she spends her days spilling cocktails on baby’s heads because her wrists are just so feeble and weak after years of being a disgusting person.
She now believes, as expected from one who is self-proclaimed intelligent, but not enough to be a useful member of society, that she can be a writer, but she is not confident in the results considering that her entire bio that she absolutely, positively, 100%, did not write herself, was nothing but a handjob joke. Here are her essays where she tries to find humor in perpetual misery. Please do not contact her with any concerns or complaints. She has spent countless hours changing first names to pronouns to protect identities and would have nothing to write about had you displayed an ounce of common decency, anyway.
Artwork by Nicholas Ruffilo