Today is the birthday of our dear friend Dave. Pretty, vivacious and charismatic, he never fails to charm us. Let's all go over there and have some cake (make mine vegan and organic please).
Here is what I have already wished him:
According to my friends at the BBC, you share your birthday with the Sun 'newspaper'.
Being forever associated with an organ for the production of virulent and dubious stories, with poor writing style and the absence of morality must be a great source of embarrassment. But I spoke to Rupert this morning, and he said he could put up with it.
Dear sweet Zoe, by coincidence is also celebrating having a twat for five years. Go and read her lovely little story. Am I alone in being reminded of Barbara Cartland when I absorb her words?
Are there any more anniversaries today? Have any of you any poignant moments to share? Is the 40th anniversary of your being laughed at in the showers at school? Have any of you been constipated for a year, or 2, or 3? How many days is it since you stopped poncing about on the internet and had a proper conversation?
And as a further anniversary, our favourite rightwingidiot Adam, has added to his journal. He is surprisingly articulate. Thanks for not making it political Adam - not something we particularly want to argue about. I suppose that the summer working in Target has done more for his education than being at college.
And, finally, as if you had forgotten, it is the birthday of good old Harry. (or 'you daft cunt' as his friends and family refer to him).