46 and not looking a day over it

It's happened on this very bloggum site here previously before earlier, of course, here and here.

But today I want it to be the very best of birthdays for this birthday boy. No silliness and substandard fripperies for me, if you darned well please, Beattie.

Never again will I feign delight at a Rupert Bear monocle, or a Saturn V model made out of raspberry jamminess. You can keep your fish-flavoured cigars, and the pants decorated with obscure handwritten invitations.

And you know what you can do with Rolf's tiny organ.

So bring on the affection and well-thought-through gifts of enormous cost. Now.