Happy Barbie Birthday!

Finally! A reason to celebrate! Let us drink to Glowing Life instead of mourning over Gloomy Death! For today is the birthday of the living, breathing Roman candle that is Barbie Wilde: Actress, author, mime, dancer, punk fairy, goth maiden, shiny leather angel, bloody bouncy black-winged demon, electro Mother Superior of the Church of Iridescent Splendor, neon bonfire splatterdoll supreme.

Barbie is one of the most genuine people I have ever had the pleasure of befriending. She's cool and classy, but also silly and sweet. Never pretentious, ever exuberant, always smiling even when she isn't. Cats eyes and candy lips. She's like that librarian you have a crush on, the one with the scholarly glasses and the stern hairstyle and the knee length practical skirts. You know damn right well when the library closes, she's in red patent leather and leopard print, whipping out the lipstick like a switchblade. It's like someone threw Simone Simon and Cyndi Lauper in a blender, added some techno and hit the switch marked SATAN. What the hell kind of glass do you pour her into? Salted rim or sugared? Flambe or on the rocks?

Yeah, you know who she is. You'd better. She's battled Charles Bronson and grizzly bears, gone Bollywood and ruled over Hell's labyrinthine corridors.

But she's also championed Sophie Lancaster and spoken out against Assholes who Drink & Drive.

She's the muse behind Voices of the Damned, The Bestiarum Vocabulum and The Venus Complex, all of which you should be purchasing and reading if you have not already done so. They're not books, they're bloody sandwiches opened up on your lap, reeking of spoiled meat and honeyed lies and quivering on the crest of an eternal orgasm.


Happy Birthday Beautiful Barbie! In a world of decaf coffee, you are a strawberry champagne supernova at the middle of a chocolate fountain. And best of all, you're my friend. Thank you for that.
❤ ❥ ♡ ♥ ღ ɞ