Yankee Pot Roast

LITERARY AI

Birthday Cards to Celebrities:
May & June, mmiv


MMIII:
J F M A M J J A S O N D
MMIV:
J F M A




Dear Doogie Howser, M.D.,

Happy 31st Birthday!

I have all of your episodes on tape. I've edited out all of the commercials and credits, so if you watch now, it's just one long episode. Sometimes I can sit for hours and hours and watch you grow up before my eyes. Remember when Vinnie delivered his French teacher's child in the elevator? How about when you slept with your girlfriend Wanda for the first time? Oh and what about when you'd been drinking at a party and got busted by the cops for DUI while responding to a call from the hospital? That last one happened to me also, if by "hospital" you mean "ex-wife" and by "call," you mean "paternity lawsuit."

Anyway, I was wondering if you could help me out. I've enclosed a picture of my back. I have this weird growth. It looks kind of like Edwin Newman. I have no idea what it is. Balms and salves have done nothing and I can barely reach the damn thing anyway. You have any idea what this might be? I'd go to an actual doctor but the courts won't let me have health insurance.

Happy Birthday!

Regards,
Geoff



Dear Joe,

O.K., here's the deal: You've got the ball. It’s 4th and 4. There's less than a minute left in the game. You're down by a field goal. You haven't been able to move the ball with the run game all day and you're pretty sure that you won't be able to get 4 yards on the ground now. You're at your opponent's 34-yard line. A field-goal attempt right now would be 51 yards. If you make it, you go into overtime. If you miss, the game is over. If you go for it and make it, you still aren't guaranteed anything but a shorter field goal. You have no timeouts on the board. What do you do? Seriously, any ideas?

I have this game of Madden on pause and my brother's getting really pissed off.

Happy Birthday!

Regards,
Geoff



Dear Gina,

You're my favorite actress-turned-rock star, even though you aren't as popular as some other actress-turned-rock stars who won't even read my letters. I mean, I'm not offended or anything that someone became way too busy to read my letters anymore. When you have a clothing line, movies to make, songs to record and people to marry, you can't make time to read every single letter, even if the letter was sent by a longtime fan from the "Fly Girl" days and not some Johnny-come-lately Maid in Manhattan fan. Oh god. It still hurts. I'll be fine.

Hey, so I'm in a rock band too and I was wondering if you wanted to tour with us. We hit a lot of the bigger clubs in the greater Columbus metro area. We do mostly Jim Nabors songs but the people here seem to love us. Let me know when you get a chance.

Happy Birthday!

Regards,
Geoff

P.S. Dear god, you're hot!




HEEEEEEEEEEEEEY Dickie V.,

Happy Birthday, you glass-eyed wonder. You're scintillating in your old age. I worry though, you're a PTPer but your level of stress might be the death of you. You're crazy with a capital C.

And your name says it all, Dick. Please stop screaming, and when you find time to remove your lil' Dickie jr. from Duke's ass, I'd be obliged if you could send me an autograph.

I'm outttttta heeeeere,

Nick




Dear Nance,

Do you know where those boots were made for walking? In Madagascar. By nine-year-olds for eleven cents an hour. Or maybe by eleven-year-olds for nine cents an hour. I don't remember what they said on "20/20", but it was bad. Really bad.

Happy 63rd Birthday, baby!

Fondly,
Josh

P.S. My boots were made for kicking ass.



Dear Marquis,

Happy 264th Birthday, you swishy pervert! You rock! You're one of the best Marquis ever! Better even than Markie Post! She was so crazy on "Night Court." Christine Sullivan: defense attorney, Anglophile, bitter foil to John Larroquette's Dan Fielding (four-time Emmy winner!). Remember when they used to do those marathons of a hundred cases by midnight? Those episodes were awesome. One time, I think, they were weighing defendants by the pound. Probably for some charity, but I'm not sure. Why isn't that show on cable? On USA or TBS or something?

All those dead bailiffs made me sad.

Happy birthday, ya depraved, tongueless nut!

Best wishes,
Josh



Dear Heidi,

I think you are the second most beautiful woman alive! You are right behind Jennifer Connelly and right ahead of Star Jones on the list that I keep thumbtacked to the wall in my basement workroom. I keep a running tally of the 100 most beautiful women in the world. I update regularly. Of course, I file the old lists away in a folder, so I can keep track of my ever-changing tastes. For instance, in the Fall of 1995, I was smitten with Emma Thompson. She leapt from 99 to 25 in one week! And Cameron Diaz? In 1994, she went from off the list to number three, then plummeted in early 1997. The system is capricious! Cameron, for the record, currently resides at 35, right ahead of Connie Chung and right behind Colin Firth.

Happy Birthday!

Regards,
Geoff

P.S. Klum: Klum like 'Plum' or Klum like 'Bloom'?



Dear Carolla,

Good gravy, Carolla! You've done it. The stamp of Adam Carolla genius is all over the place. You've got the gig with Kimmel. You've got the "Loveline" radio show on MTV. You've got the residuals flying in from "The Man Show." Your wife tells me you're hung like a bear. I mean, what else is there left to accomplish? Perhaps there is a movie on the horizon? Should America hold its collective breath? Just to be on the safe side, I'm going to put aside $10 for your future, yet-to-be-written-or-released film. Other than that, you've done it all, big man.

Not bad for a nebbishy, annoying mouthbreather who rode Kimmel's coattails to success.

Happy Birthday!

Regards,
Geoff



Dear T,

Happy 34th Birthday!

Gosh, Tina, the thing I'm gonna miss most about "S.N.L." is our "Weekend Update" rehearsals together. Every week, you'd school me in current events, when I'd stroll in to 30 Rock, cutely six hours late, blissfully ignorant of world affairs, since I've never read a newspaper or watched any channel other than MTV or vh1 or M2 or vh1 Classic. I also like UPN. Oh, and NBC, because of our show. And Tracey Morgan's. Boy, I like TV. TV is awesome. I can't believe I just quit my job on TV. What was I thinking? Tina, where were you? How'd you let this happen? My goofy Adam Sandler-lite schtick ain't gonna cut it in the movies. Not no way, not no how. I'm doomed to Rob Schneider-esque cameos in Adam Sandler-esque movies. Oh god. I'm so upset I can't even change the lyrics to a Top 40 hit and strum along on my guitar. I like my guitar. And ice cream. Ice cream's good.

Scared,
Jimmy Fallon

I also like Britney Spears's boobies.





Dear Bob,

Happy 48th Birthday!

It's been too long since we've hung out, Bobby. I know you're a busy man, what with work and family, etc., and I've been pretty busy too--my career as an advertising spokesman is really heating up, and I've been practicing the drums a lot lately, because I read on thebeachboysfanclub.net message boards that the Boys are talking about a possible reunion tour the summer after next, so, you know, busy busy busy at Camp Stamos!

Rebecca's been staying at her, uh, grandmother's house the past couple of weeks -- she needed to unwind, you know? But, still, I've been really busy. This weekend, though, I'll tell you: I had a nice quiet relaxing couple of days, for once. Made myself some Dinty Moore and watched Mary-Kate and Ashley on "S.N.L." Hey, are you going to their 18th Birthday party next month? I never got an invitation.

Anyway, all's peachy at Casa de Stamos, Bob. I hope I see you soon. Happy Birthday, buckaroo!

Best,
John Stamos

P.S. Do you know if Dave Coulier's changed his phone number again? I keep leaving messages at the old number, but he never calls me back.





Dear Pat,

It must be a really happy birthday for you. I heard you got a new liver, which is cool. I, too, am the recent recipient of an organ transplant. I just got a new colon. I think it's broken though. Every time I eat anything, I have to go to the bathroom about 5 hours later.

Anyway, I hope you have a great birthday. Maybe kick back a few beers, break in the new liver.

Love,
Geoff