Dear Alec,

With the election for Baldwin Brothers president approaching, I have some concerns that I’ll need to work through before casting my ballot. In the past, I’ve always supported you. Stephen’s been a goofball for years, smoking pot and making Pauly Shore movies, and Daniel hadn’t cast a vote since the controversial recount of 1991. You’ve always been liberal but since Stephen has straightened out, found religion, and become a conservative candidate, he’s pushed you farther to the left. I don’t want to vote for you just because I disagree with him; I need to vote my conscience. With the extreme political polarity of our family, Daniel has emerged as a viable third-party candidate. I know what you’re thinking: Daniel won’t win. Nobody votes for the third-party candidate. But he’s beginning to make sense when he speaks about a lot of the matters that affect our family. The role of swing brother is a lot of responsibility and I want to make an informed decision based on the issues, e.g. Mom’s birthday present; who’ll be the distinguished alumni speaker at the Massapequa High School graduation; who will appoint the successor to Grandpa as Chief Justice and Carver General at Thanksgiving dinner. Will you allow Daniel to speak at the debates and have a say on the issues or will you lock him out and alienate this important swing voter? I hope you’ll do the right thing.

Concerned,
Billy Baldwin
registered Independent voter

P.S. Happy birthday, bro.

Dear Gorilla Lady,

Happy birthday! Apple good. Pretty apple. Banana. Jojo eat. Sit now. Jojo sit now pretty apple. More Jojo. Sit lady apple birthday. Lady good. Birthday birthday lady. Jojo hungry.

Sincerely,
Jojo
Western lowland gorilla

Dear Wayne-o,

Hey, why’d you shave the moustache? I think it was really something; not only was it one of the top-five moustaches of all time, but you’re just not as smarmy or unctuous without it. And frankly, Wayne, I don’t know if I want to pay 400 dollars to see a lounge singer who doesn’t sport a creepy, pencil-thin ’stache.

My girlfriend hates my moustache. Hates it! She says I look like Hitler. I don’t know, I just think it looks good. It’s like a little necktie for my nose. Plus, because it’s narrow, it doesn’t sop up too much soup. I like soup, but not the way it smells when it’s under my nose all day.

Happy birthday, Newton!

Very truly yours,
Scott Baio

Dear Tracy,

I’ve got a fast car. It goes zoom! It also goes honk. It has a cupholder but it’s illegal to drink and drive. I lost my virginity in the back seat and also my keys in the trunk. Now I can’t get my hostage out because he’s locked inside the trunk with the keys. I’m afraid to take it to a locksmith, because the locksmith might get upset if he cracks open the trunk and recognizes the hostage as an old friend. So now I just sit around in my keyless fast car. I can’t zoom anymore but I can still honk! Happy birthday.

Love,
Josh

Dear Norah,

Quit your whining. I’ll tell you why I didn’t come: Your apartment is filthy! Look at those dishes piled up in the sink. We had Chinese a week and a half ago. With your clothes all over the place, I can’t even see the floor. You know something else? You’re allowed to recycle your newspapers. They don’t have to pile up in the corner.

Clean up that stinkhole and maybe I’ll think about coming by. In the meantime, I’ll be at my place. You know, the one without the roaches.

Happy birthday!

Cordially,
Geoff Wolinetz

Dear Sidney,

Guess who’s coming to dinner? Me! Do you have room for one more? My friend Eddie is in town for the weekend and I’d hate to leave him at my apartment alone with a can of soup for one because I don’t have a can opener or spoon. He won’t be a nuisance at the table. Eddie’s really good at dinnertime small talk. He can segue from topic to topic with ease and has an extensive repertoire of humorous anecdotes to keep us laughing into the wee hours. Plus, he’s got a Labrador that we can slip our food to if we’re not enjoying the meal.

We’ll be there at 8:00 p.m. Should I bring a Jell-O mold?

Happy birthday,
Geoff Wolinetz

Dear Justine,

Hey, you know who I think is the worst late addition to any TV show’s cast? Most people probably say The Brady Bunch's Cousin Oliver, but they’re wrong. It’s Nick Moore, the Rambo-esque dullard who joined Family Ties in 1985 and stuck around till the end. He sucks! (And that little runt who played Chrissie with some weird growth-hormone problem was really awful too--which puts the atrocity of the addition of the Nick character in perspective.) Nick Moore really, really sucks! Awful. Did you see his one movie, where he played a hell-spawned demon with a broken heart? It was so bad I crapped in a potted plant and threw the plant at the television. Grrr! I hate Scott Valentine, I hate him! Skippy was the scene-stealing sidekick in that show! Skippy! He was plenty of character! What the fuck! Is everybody crazy? Scott fucking Valentine. Please!

Happy birthday, my beschert.

With undying love,
Marc Price
(a.k.a. "Skippy Handleman")

Dear Penn,

How do you do that trick where take away your assistant’s vocal cords? See, I’ve got this assistant at the office--she’s an excellent worker, and quite a peach, but something of a chatterbox. It’s always yap, yap, yap, all day long. I can’t take it. I don’t want to fire her, I just want her to shut up for a little while. At least until her mother is either cured or dead from lupus, because if I have to listen to her complain about that anymore I’m going to lose it.

Thanks, and have a happy birthday.

Yours,
Deepak Chopra

Dear Chas,

Well, who’s America’s most famous lesbian daughter now? You got served, bitch! Happy birthday!

XO,
Mary Cheney

Dear John/Tom,

I had a little extra time on my hands last week, so I swung by the bookstore and picked up your latest respective offerings. John, your new book is wonderful. My puppy pit bull, Eudora, likes to relieve herself all over Chapter 3; though I prefer to wipe my ass with Chapter 7. Tom, your new book is quite good as well. I’ve torn the pages in even strips and, with a little help from my friends Water, Flour, and Glue, made a beautiful papier-mâché house, a mask, and a hat. Since you’re such a long-winded blowhard, I have enough left over to throw off the deck of the ship as I depart on my next cruise. Bon voyage, losers.

Happy birthday,
John Updike

Dear Mr. Tallyman,

You wrote the best banana song ever! I also work on a banana boat, and lemme tell ya, the boys never get tired of singing your awesome banana song. Maybe 30, 40 times a dayo. I’ve been working on the boat twelve and half years now. There’s usually some idle chitchat at the start of the workday--sports, weather, stuff like that. We don’t really discuss politics much on the boat. After an hour or so, we’ve pretty much said all there is to say. Most of the guys don’t have too much going on after work. You spend long hours on the boat, and it’s exhausting; usually when daylight come, me want to go home. Anyway whenever it gets quiet for a bit, somebody will always shout, “Daaaaaaaaay-o.” It’s usually this guy Wally. And then there’s generally a moment of silence, and you don’t know if anyone’s going to pipe up and continue the song. You just wait and wait and sometimes you really think it’s over, that the boys have had enough of it ... but somebody always sings back “Day-ay-ay-o” eventually. And then we’re all singing it. It’s a real catchy tune.

Wally’s O.K., I guess. I just wish he’d mix it up a bit.

Happy birthday!

Sincerely,
Josh Abraham
Bananaman

Dear Ja,

So I’ve heard you’re from Hollis, Queens. Holla! My grandmoms lives in Hollis, too. Holla! Holla! Do you know her? She’s a sweet old lady. Holla. If you’re in Hollis anytime soon, she lives on Hillside right off 182nd Street. Holla! Holla! You should stop by. I bet she’d knit you a scarf if you asked politely. Holla scarf! And maybe even make you a sandwich on challah bread. Challah!

Holla birthday!

Yours,
Nick Jezarian

Dear Steve,

I love my iPod so much. Probably as much as I do Rick Astley. In fact, I filled my entire 60-gig iPod with Rick Astley originals and covers. It’s all Rick all the time. Rick on the way to work. Rick on the way home. Rick for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Rick when I wake up and Rick when I go to sleep. I never dreamed I could get this much Rick and it’s all thanks to you and your marvelous little gadget. I don’t know what I’d do without my iPod, especially now that I’m required to keep at least 500 feet from Rick at all times. Seriously, all I wanted to do was show him my iPod, but I guess he was scared because of the last time I tried to show him something. Anyway, thanks again!

Happy birthday!

Best wishes,
Geoff Wolinetz

Dear Ms. Hingis,

Congratulations! We here at the International Society of Foreheads have had our eye on your for quite some time. That is one large and shiny forehead you've got there, Ms. Hingis. Now that you've more or less decided to retire from tennis, we'd like to officially extend an offer of membership to you to join our society! There are many benefits to membership. We have in place a 20% discount at the Hanky Shack for forehead cloths. Additionally, if you put our plaque in the window of your car, you can park in the handicapped spot at the 7-Eleven in Bethesda, Maryland. It's basically for those quick trips when you just need small things like toilet paper and O'Doul's.

We hope you'll join our ranks. We think you'd make a fine addition.

Happy Birthday!

Geoff Wolinetz

Dear Jill,

Oh man, when I was a little kid, I used to love watching "The Love Boat." My favorite was during the opening credits when everyone would shill for the camera as their name flashed on the screen. I used to love when Isaac would flash those double guns at the screen--BAM! Ha-ha. It was like he was shooting at you. When I was really little, I used to duck so he wouldn't hit me but then my mom had the doctor give me these pills and I really didn't feel the need to duck anymore. In fact, after I started taking those pills, I didn't really feel the need to do anything at all. After that, I stopped watching the show because I heard Lauren Tewes had an insatiable appetite for cocaine. Hey, do you still talk to her? What's she up to?

Oh, there's the buzzer. Time to take my pill.

Happy Birthday!
Geoff Wolinetz

P.S. Whelan. Is that Dutch?

Dear Jeffrey Jones,

By God, you were wonderful in Ferris Bueller's Day Off. The role of bumbling, ill-fated Principal Rooney was just marvelous for you. I can't even conceive of anyone else playing that role now that you've done it. I just cannot say enough good things about you. Your well-groomed moustache, your light blue suit, everything was just perfect. My favorite scene in the film was when you were scrambling around the office with your inept secretary, Grace. No offense but she left a little something to be desired. She should go play the next-door neighbor on a sitcom about a family where the father is an airline pilot and the mother spends a lot of time with the kids but tragically dies the following season and is replaced by an actress with a glass eye.

By the way, I've been in a coma for the last 20 years. Sorry it took so long for me to get to you about this but I'm just catching up year by year and I just hit 1986. Your performance was so riveting that I'm just dying to know what's happening in your life now. Anything newsworthy?

Happy Birthday!

Geoff

Dear Hilary,

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. I. Hate. You.

Happy 17th Birthday!

Love,
Lindsay Lohan

P.S. You're getting fat.

Dear Avril,

Happy 20th Birthday! I totally hope you have the best birthday ever and don't die! I hope it's a great day start to finish, and you're not attacked by rabid dogs or infected with any Third World diseases for which there are no cures. I hope you're not crushed by any falling meteors or major appliances being airlifted by helicopter. I hope your hair and teeth don't fall out and your skin isn't riddled with boils. I also hope you recognize insincerity. Happy birthday!

Sincerely,
Hilary Duff

Dear Mr. Brimley,

Were you ever a young man? With a name like Wilford Brimley, I feel as though you have been an old man since the day you were born. Photographic evidence supports this contention. For crying out loud, all you do is play the role of old men. Cocoon, the grandfather in the Chad Allen show “Our House,” Cocoon: The Return. It’s all old people. And according to your IMDb biography, you were a blacksmith. A blacksmith! You’ve been trained in a profession that has no practical application anymore. If I’m ever looking for a really old, heavyset guy who kind of looks like a walrus and has been trained as a blacksmith to be in my movie, I’ll know who to call.

Happy Birthday!

Geoff Wolinetz

P.S. Do you have a mouth or do you talk out of your moustache?

Dear Bryan Ferry,

I swear I'm trying, but after 15 years of blissfully obeying your Hakuna Matata philosophy, I'm starting to worry again. The other day Fox News flagrantly manipulated data before my very eyes. They were running through state-by-state electoral math based upon that morning's new polling data, and when they got to Florida, of all places, they said this, I swear: Kerry's slightly ahead by today's polls, 49-48(ish?), but since Bush has been consistently edging him out, we're going to go ahead and give the state to the Republicans, expecting this temporary fluke to reverse itself soon. And then when they added it all up, they proudly announced Bush would stomp over Kerry, were the election held today, with a 50-something electoral lead. But the numbers didn't add up that way! They plainly said they were dismissing a number that would've forced them to admit a Kerry victory. And no one called them on this, Bobby. Bobby? I mean ... Bryan. Um ... Shit. I started writing this card thinking you were the “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” guy. Bobby McFerrin, that's his name. Admit it, they sound alike. Bobby McFerrin, Bryan Ferry. It's pretty close. Well, sorry to have wasted your time. Happy 49th Birthday anyway.

Sincerely,
Josh

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 D.U.I. 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

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