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August 12, 2009


Today is my birthday, which is always a big day at my house. I get the kids up early – around five thirty or so, and give them very specific instructions about how I want my breakfast in bed served. Then I retire back to my boudoir and let them figure out what a frittata is. The reason I get them up so early is because it takes them hours to get the order right, which means I have to keep sending them back downstairs to do it over and over and over until it’s perfect. They never did quite nail the hollandaise sauce, but I finally got so antsy around two o’clock this afternoon that I told them to just fucking forget it.

We were going to go whale watching today but the weather seemed dicey so we decided to hold off on that until later this week when it will be closer to my wife’s birthday than to mine. Our birthdays are four days apart, which sucks because I am always stressing out about her special day instead of enjoying my own. Because I want to make her day as amazing as possible  (slight exaggeration regarding my intentions).

Instead I spent the day quietly at home doing important, important work. That work largely consisted of Twittering and napping. I am also reading a great William Gibson book called “Pattern Recognition.” Plus, I helped the wife hang curtains and yelled at the kids out of instinct even though they weren’t doing anything wrong.

Tonight we are going out for tapas, which is a Spanish word meaning “over-priced.” Then we’re off to see a movie. It was a toss-up between “The Hangover” and “The Hurt Locker.” Did I want to spend my birthday in laughter or lamenting dead soldiers? We decided to go with the lighter fare; “The Hurt Locker” just doesn’t have the same post-movie BJ potential. Of course, when you’ve been married for ten (almost eleven) years, even an instructional BJ video featuring Megan Fox sucking off Antonio Sabato Jr. wouldn’t have much post-movie BJ potential.

Anyway, it should be a fun night out and thank you to everybody who wished me a happy birthday. As I’ve said before, every birthday brings me one year closer to when I am cryogenically frozen and eventually reconstituted as a lethal cyborg.


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Happy Birthday! I am sorry for the belated wishes, but I forgot all about your birthday on account I was celebrating MY birthday. I bet I got better gifts than you did. I got a book called PRIDE AND PREJUDICE AND ZOMBIES. Jealous?


Michael Happy Bday your new show is great - i laugh throughout the whole half hour and wish it was longer - you and michael sho are such douches to each other - its perfect - ps i hope nick gets an enlarged prostate


Happy Birthday to your beautiful wife (I think you said it was today) and I hope you are particularly good to her on her special day. Basically meaning, at this point, you picked your underwear up off the floor and gave her some face time at some point in the day.


I was watching your performance in "The Gangs of New York" for the tenth time or so this weekend, and I wanted to share that I thought you did an amazing job! I'm always surprised that you didn't receive a Best Supporting Actor nomination. Any chance of getting a post about what it was like working with Leonardo DiCaprio? Keep up the great work!


Take a break from shooting hoops with Leo and update your calendar,matey.


Many many happy returns of the day, Michael!!!
Am extremely sorry for the late wishes...
May almighty fulfill all your dreams...
Keep laughing, and make other laugh, I really love to watch your show...
All the best for your future...


I was going to leave a nice happy birthday comment, but I am now so thrown off by the hater comments and blow-job offers that I think I've lost all faith in humanity.

Happy Birthday. I think you are funny. I don't want to give you a blow job.


I just found this, so this comment is over a year late, so I won't wish you a happy late birthday. It was either happy or it wasn't and, sadly, my wishes are not magically retroactive.

Do you really expect me to believe that your wife doesn't put you to bed every night with a bj? Because, really, how can she resist? If I were sleeping with you, you could count it as guaranteed. Even after 10 years. That is not me hitting on a married man, that is me doubting that your wife could keep her mouth to herself.

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