Sometimes I surprise myself at my own badness. I’m clearly not the daughter my mother raised. If I am, we’ve got bigger problems that I first imagined. And while my mother no longer walks this Earth, just the thought that for 45 years two people with such propensity for evil did in fact walk the Earth is staggering. No wonder there’s earthquakes and the like. It was us. Sorry Haiti! Didn’t mean it.
But for whatever reason, I enjoy being so bad and lately I’ve felt an untethered ability to be bad. Like my badness knows no bounds. What the hell has come over me? Do I feel like I’ve nothing to lose? That only good things come out of being bad?
Or haven’t I just gotten pegged for all this evil? Yet.
And even the prospect of some looming pay back isn’t stopping me. I’m forging ahead in to new bad territory. Hell, I’m the Mayor of Bad and there’s no one even ballsy enough to challenge me!
But why? Why all this badness?
Simple. I just defy someone to tell me to be good. I am so freakin obstinate that I just dare someone to tell me to behave myself. Try. It. I’m to the point in my life, at the ripe old age of 45, that I just don’t give a good goddamn. If I want to do it, I’m not worried about consequences or repercussions. I’m going to do it. If I want to say it; I’m going to say it.
And let me tell you, I am having the time of my life!
How liberating it is to be bad. I’m telling you, I feel like every moment is a true gift. I feel that I’ve expanded myself in ways that I could have never imagined before. My ability to amuse myself is limitless. I am completely enamored with my new-found badness. It’s simply glorious.
Now, now, don’t get the holy water out just yet. I still don’t physically hurt people. I don’t mistreat animals or small children. I’ve been known to ignore them and not find them enthralling, but I haven’t pinched any yet. And I don’t plan to. In that respect, I’m still a goody-goody.
And I’m not out breaking any laws either. I don’t speed, embezzle money or cheat on my husband. I’m obeying both the legal and moral code of law.
Now I know what you’re thinking: Denise isn’t all that bad. Well, think again. I. Am. I don’t have to go proving it with bank robberies and the like. I don’t have to do mind control and turn you all into my zombie minions. I am bad all unto myself. I’m sly bad. I’m covert bad. You don’t see my bad coming. It just sneaks up on you and kicks you one to the head.
And that, my friends, is the kinda bad you gotta fear. And fear it you will. Keep smiling my little victims!