We interrupt this scheduled radio silence …

_inbetween_, it is your birthday! Not only are you the most gloriously punctuated of all my flist, but you are talented and bright and genuinely decent and bloody well deserve a break, which you have not had of late. So instead of my usual birthday wishes, I gift to you a birthday threat to the universe. If it doesn't get it's act together and start making things not only easy but bloody well bountiful and brilliant for you over the next 12 months, I will go it, with kicker boots and my axe and at least one sword strapped on somewhere: one of the proper German ones, not one of the pissy fencing ones. Socks up, universe! Or there'll be more than words!

Obviously, there are also hopes for people to bring you cake and gifts, but I won't kick your peer group if they fail on that one.