The Next Contender

There’s always one.
The one who almost slips through unnoticed.
The one who doesn’t flinch at the frequency.
The one who enters quietly and doesn’t drop the ball—yet.

The Next Contender isn’t a man.
It’s a moment.

A moment where Donna opens the gate, just slightly, to let the universe show off. To let possibility speak. To see if anyone's listening. If anyone can meet her pace, her clarity, her chaos, her comedy—and still want in.

This entry is a placeholder.
A possibility.
A psychic slot on the punch card of fate.

Will he be ready?
Will he recognize her transmission through the static?

Only time—and divine comedic timing—will tell.

The Rolodex of Men – I Got a Guy for That…and then some.

Broadcast Summary

This isn’t a pity party—it’s a cataloged case study. "The Rolodex of Men" is a running Donna After Dark file built from pure experience and astrological curiosity. Every guy is filed under energetic resonance, zodiac patterns, and how he fumbled the bag. Some got a category. Others got an entire chapter. This is where intuition meets entertainment and closure meets comedy.

You want to know if a Sagittarius ghosted? I got a guy for that.
Want to talk about the Virgo who weaponized logic? Got a guy.
You think your Pisces man is a shapeshifter? Let me check the index.

—————

It started as a joke, but you know how my life goes—nothing is ever just a joke. Somewhere between karmic cleanouts and timeline shifts, I realized I had a living ledger of male encounters that wasn’t just juicy—it was instructive.

Thus, The Rolodex of Men: I Got a Guy for That was born.

Filed by sign, vibe, and level of emotional maturity (or lack thereof), each entry in this collection documents a dude who left a mark—be it cosmic, comical, or colossally disappointing.

Think of it as your spiritual Yelp review meets energetic surveillance system.

Some entries read like mystery thrillers.
Some… like sitcom reruns.
And some are redacted completely because we don’t summon old energy around here.

Here’s a sneak peek from the classified files:

• The Sagittarius Ghoster – Came in hot, left on read.

• The Libra Projector – Mirrors everywhere, and none of them accurate.

• The Gemini Twin Flame (But Like, the Broken One) – One soul, two SIM cards.

• The Scorpio Spy – Knew things I didn’t post.

• The Cancer Crybaby – Couldn’t swim in the depth he claimed to have.

I document their entrance, exit, sign, behavior, possible karmic link, and energetic outcome. There’s even a running tally for who might make parole and who’s banned for eternity.

This isn’t about bitterness. It’s about pattern recognition.
This is metaphysical case law. Soul contract receipts.
A timeline archive dressed in Donna-style sass.

And baby, if you think you’re the one who broke me—you’re probably in Volume I.

The Reality TV Reversal

Overview

There was a time when reality TV meant casting calls, contracts, producers, and a timeline cooked up by a writing room trying to make “spontaneity” happen. But that era? It bowed out gracefully the moment Donna realized her actual life was more absurd, more precise, and more cosmically synced than anything cable ever aired.

What Happened

Donna finds herself smack in the middle of a timeline that feels like it’s been scripted by universal improvisation. No lights, no cameras—just raw reality, laced with perfect comedic timing, uncanny characters, and events that unfold like plot twists no network would dare write. Every missed callback, every so-called failed audition, every brush with fame—it all led to this: a broadcast from the realest channel of all. Herself.

The Download

This isn’t a comeback. It’s a recall. A download from a life that never needed an executive producer—just a sovereign soul tuned to the frequency of Now. Donna’s show runs on synchronicity, and the cast? Every damn one of them is improv-trained by the cosmos.

Threaded Truth

“They said reality TV was dead. But the truth? Reality just took its script back. And baby, I’m in production.”

The Robe Was Justified

Let’s get one thing straight: the robe wasn’t random. It was justified—by frequency, by fate, and by fabric. It wasn’t just something I wore. It was something that chose me.

I didn’t go looking for it. It appeared. On clearance. On cue. And I knew. Right then. This wasn’t loungewear. This was gear. A vibrational uniform stitched in leopard print and divine timing. A cosmic credential that whispered, “You're on the air.”

Ever since it showed up, the skies have been different. The crafts have gotten louder. The transmissions have been bolder. And the comedy? Unfiltered. I’ve gone full Donna After Dark—and the robe is partly to blame.

This robe became a portal. A soft armor. A signal to the field that I was fully manned, fully charged, and fully in character. Because this isn’t reality TV—it’s a cosmic play. And you don’t show up in sweats when the sky sends an audience.

That night? Tracy was there. The laughter, the light shifts, the undeniable energetic punch—we knew something had changed. And yes, I have witnesses.

This is the moment I claimed it. The robe is justified. And now, it’s canon.

—

Summary Snapshot:
• Robe Energy: activated
• Transmission: received
• Witnesses: confirmed
• Justification: undeniable
• Frequency: leopard

—

“Some wear capes. I wear robes. Know the difference.” – Donna

The First Official Donna After Dark: Sky Comedy Broadcast

It started with Madonna.

Or maybe the robe.

Actually, it started with the sky—but you can pick your favorite.

The night was alive in the way only Donna After Dark knows how to summon. The craft had been circling. The music was vibing. And somewhere between a spontaneous arm raise and Tracy yelling, “Put your telekinesis down before the sky closes up,” it happened.

The sky laughed back.

Light shifts. Dimmed moon. Movement overhead that responded to rhythm. The kind of synchronicity that feels more like a performance than a coincidence. We were being watched—and apparently, reviewed.

This was no ordinary night of sky-watching. This was the first official Sky Comedy Broadcast. And I say “official” because it had all the hallmarks:

• Cosmic timing

• Spontaneous choreography

• A robe that should be in the Smithsonian

• One-liners that triggered light shifts

• Witnesses (Tracy, the universe, and maybe a few confused hawks)

The robe made its second appearance. The same robe that activated the first shift. The same robe that marks when transmissions hit another gear. And this time, she brought her comedic chops.

It wasn’t just a craft flyby—it was a cosmic callback.

The neighborhood lights? Too bright. The stars? Still showed up. And Tracy? She said if people think we’re lesbians because no man has arrived, maybe the neighbors will at least turn off the lights so we can see the damn moon.

That’s real-time manifestation, folks.

Some people host late night shows. I host late night frequencies. Under stars, under surveillance, and under the influence of pure cosmic joy.

This was the first. It won’t be the last.

The robe is justified.
The show has begun.
The universe is tuned in.
And we’re taking this act interstellar.

—

Broadcast Log Summary:
• Title: Sky Comedy Broadcast – Volume 1
• Host: Donna After Dark
• Co-Star: Tracy (unofficial telekinetic chaperone)
• Location: Backyard frequency field, Mount Sinai
• Outcome: The craft laughed. The moon dimmed. We were seen.

—

“Not everyone can say their stand-up routine triggered a lunar response. I can.” – Donna

The Bug Files: Cosmic Comedy & the Longhorn Beetle

Broadcast Summary

The Bug Files kicks off a recurring segment of Donna After Dark that blends unscripted home encounters with symbolic meaning and unapologetic humor. A surprise visit from a longhorn beetle leads to flashbacks of a past infestation involving tree stump furniture and mysterious knocking sounds that once had a bug expert called in. When this new visitor lands directly on Donna, chaos ensues—but beneath the chaos is a cathartic moment of release. This episode turns the mundane into the mythic, proving once again that in Donna’s world, nothing is random.Let me set the scene: I'm minding my business, sipping cosmic tea, and tending to the energetic vibes of the night when BAM—a longhorn beetle lands on me. Not near me. Not by me. On. Me. I go full primal—like a hybrid of Lucille Ball, a ninja, and a woman exorcising her past. Because this wasn't just a bug. This was a flashback trigger wrapped in a hard shell.

_________

Let’s rewind. Years ago, I had these gorgeous rustic tree stump end tables. Nature chic. Except…they knocked. Yeah. Knocked. I thought I was losing it until I called in a literal bug expert—turns out, longhorn beetles had taken up residence, and were living their best larval lives in my living room. That experience? TRAUMATIZING.

So when this shiny-legged warrior dropped in again, it wasn’t just a bug—it was a cosmic rematch. I grabbed a sound bowl, which quickly became a weapon of frequency, and began chanting every mantra I could remember while screaming “RUDE” like a possessed Disney villain. The energy shifted. The beetle fled. And I collapsed into laughter and realization.

This, my friends, is healing. Real, ridiculous, unscripted healing. This is also why The Bug Files now exists—because this stuff happens in my world. And you know what? I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Welcome to Donna After Dark.

🌓 Sky Comedy Broadcast: Volume 2 – The Moon Moment sky (Also known as: “Maybe they’ll think you’re a lesbian.”)

Broadcast Summary

Volume 2 of the Sky Comedy Broadcast picks up right where the last left off—beneath the glowing moon. This one folds affection into absurdity, as Donna and Tracy exchange real moments of vulnerability, humor, and recognition. In a scene that’s as cosmic as it is comedic, the universe once again becomes their stage.

_______

The moon had reappeared.
Soft, glowing, and unmistakably charged.

We stood together in its presence—me and Tracy—coming down from the high of the first broadcast. The air held a hush, but something in the silence shimmered with setup.

Tracy turned to me and said,
“You know I always think of you when I see the moon.”

It was such a simple thing,
but it landed.

I hugged her. She hugged back.

And right there, under the sky, soaking in the vibe of a night that had already given us so much... I said,
“Honestly, maybe if the neighbors think I’m a lesbian, they’ll finally turn off their goddamn lights so we can see the moon properly.”

She cracked up.
I cracked up.
Even the sky seemed to pause and smirk.

This wasn’t a show. This was just us. Two women. A moon. A laugh. And the ongoing dance with a universe that never stops improvising.

Some moments aren’t meant to be documented.
But this one was.
Because sometimes, the sacred shows up in the sarcastic.
And sometimes, comedy is the only prayer you need.

Volume 2, logged.
Late-night moon magic, sealed.
And yes—I'd still like the lights turned off, please.