I won't bore anyone with ego or rambling bullshit, so I'll keep it simple and sweet. I enjoy a circle of close friends whom have no complaints about my companionship and looks. I don't mistake my confidence for conceit, as I have plenty of knowledge to know the difference between the two. Respect me and I'll respect you -- you dirty bitches.
My Haggy Denise just recently had a birthday and I hadn’t had the opportunity to dedicate a fabulous birthday blog to her. You see, Denise is a leap year baby and as everyone knows, she can only truly celebrate her birthday once ever four years. Born into a world with an eclectic few, she was carved and prepared by Mother Nature to become the ultimate of all hags and rein Queen of the Hagrem. I got over the guilt of not being able to blog about her special day quite quickly because I knew that as long as I produced and posted one before the end of the year, she can’t fully complain. Nevertheless, I dedicate this splendiferous birthday wish to my one and only haggy… Denise.
Denise and I clashed horns on the first day we met when we were playing with a ball and taking turns hitting it over the fence. I bounced the ball into the front property of her house and I kindly asked her if she could throw it back. With the ferocity of a rabid hound, Denise replied NO!! (insert growl here). She continued to batter me by stating she didn’t have to throw anything to me and proceeded to ask me (in a sarcastic tone) why she should throw it back. That was the beginning of a long-lasting, sadomasochistic, passive-aggressive bond that we continue to hold today.
Denise's father had recently passed away and during this tragic time, I witnessed a softer, vulnerable side of a woman whose skin is usually thicker than anyone I know. This vulnerability reminded me that despite a person's outer strength, a personal loss can remind you of how valuable your family and friends truly are. I hold my friendship with Denise in the highest esteem and cherish every moment we spend honking like mules because the chipped paint on my bathroom radiator resembles a tiny old man. Yes, we're insane...
When Denise comes to my studio, mayhem and madness ensue. She gravitates towards physically abusing me and religiously leaves her mark with 7-inch scratches that refuse to heal as if I was scratched by a venomous werewolf. The day after her swift attacks, I go to work with a short-sleeved shirt and my coworkers inquire about my savage scratches. When I nonchalantly reply that the scratches are a result of my Haggy's visit over the weekend, they collectively pause and give me a look of pity and concern. I simply chalk it up to their being jealous.