Robin Plemmons: Throbbin’

She’s like Miralax for emotional constipation, organically loosening us all up. 

You might shit yourself. Your chakras might align. You might run into your therapist (or hers) and have to unpack that later. You might leave with a boner (or the vulva equivalent). You might feel healed. You might feel traumatized. Who’s to say. 

ADHD and visually stimulated individuals will especially enjoy how she sprinkles her own ridiculous, heartfelt art throughout the show, displayed on the big screen in front of you. Please keep in mind that it’s R-rated material, so don’t bring your MeeMaw unless your MeeMaw is chill. 

And here’s a fun surprise! The end of the show will morph into a dance party filled with nasty hip hop, power ballads, and splashes of Xennial nostalgic tunes. Think DMX, Celine Dion, Kendrick, Beyoncé, Amy Grant. 

It’s a delightful sensory buffet that will leave your heart, eyeballs, and crotchal region throbbin’ in all the best ways. 

Bonus! It’s a Saturday night! There’ll be tacos, beer, and unhinged merch! AND you’ll probably be in bed, snuggled under your covers like a sweet, satiated, milk-drunk baby, by 9:30 or 10:00.