[ * The good folks at (parenthetical note) are co-hosting Y.P.R.'s daily birthday cards. Be nice, go pay them a visit.
Each and every day, Y.P.R. sends an honest-to-God birthday card to its favorite celebrity. Come, celebrate with us.
June 26, 1974 | Derek Jeter | pot-roast-less Yankee
Happy 29th Birthday!
We have something in common. I am also known as Mr. November. Certainly not on the scale which you are, but if you check the Rochester, MN, Chippendale's calendar, there I am in the month of November.
It's a tasteful picture, I think. I'm wearing a pair of yellow vinyl shorts with red suspenders. No shirt. I am sitting on a fire engine with one leg on the ground. There is a Dalmatian in the picture as well.
Anyway, I've enclose a signed copy of the picture. If you could send me one of you back, that would be great.
P.S. If you want to put on the yellow vinyl shorts with red suspenders, I won't stop you. It's not a dealbreaker, though
June 25, 1979 | Busy Philipps | freaky actress
June 25, 1975 | Linda Cardellini | geeky actress
Dear Sexy Ladies of Brilliant but Cancelled TV Series "Freaks and Geeks,"
Happy 24th and 28th Birthdays!
Wow, I bet there were some wild times on the set when you guys discovered you shared a special day! You two probably got all hopped up on Red Bull and vodka, went out to some hot club, danced on the bar, stripped, made out with each other like those little Russian chicks, and woke up the next morning stark naked in the park with a hell of a hangover.
Too bad your show got cancelled.
June 24, 1942 | Mick Fleetwood | Mac daddy
Dear Mr. Fleetwood,
Happy 61st Birthday!
If you ever become a porn star, you should change your name to "Flick Meatwood." That would rock hard.
P.S. "Nevie Sticks" would have been good, back in the day. Not now.
June 23, 1972 | Selma Blair | actress
Happy 31st Birthday, Selma!
I'm happy to tell you, Selma, that at this week's meeting of the International Sexy Names Committee (Southwest Boise chapter) you were voted -- by a landslide* -- "Sexiest Woman on the Planet Named Selma." You trounced Selma, Marge's cranky, raspy-voiced, boxy-shaped sister, from "The Simpsons," and Selma the cranky, raspy-voiced, boxy-shaped bailiff from "Night Court." Nearly every other Selma on the list was also cranky, raspy-voiced, and boxy-shaped as well, and also 70 years old.
But you, Selma, are way under 70, sweet-voiced, nicely shaped, and not cranky at all. You are the Sexiest Selma! We've made you a very nice plaque pronouncing you as such. It will be delivered via DHL next Tuesday.
You'll be happy to know, Selma, that your sexy name is catching on as "slang" for "comely female." I saw two burly construction workers whistling at the ladies that passed and one of them remarked, "Check out the legs on that Selma."
Happy 31st Birthday, Selma!
P.S. By the way, do you know any hot Trudys? That name comes up for vote next week, and our list is looking pretty poor.
* A lot of people voted for Salma Hayek, but she was disqualified on a minor spelling technicality. Lucky for you!
June 20, 1965 | Nicole Kidman | Aussie
Happy 36th Birthday!
My girlfriend Betsy is almost a dead ringer for you: the bone structure, the curly red hair, the pasty white skin, the slightly above-average height that makes her appear freakishly tall in comparison with my dwarfish stature. Every day some stranger will approach us and say, "Good God, your resemblance to two-time Golden Globe-winner Nicole Kidman is uncanny!" If you saw her, Nicole, you'd totally freak out. The only thing that separates you two is her big honker. It's really big.
Now Betsy's been saving for years for rhinoplasty, and she was all set to go last fall. But then, you come out with a fake big nose in that crap movie I didn't see, The Hours. Why are you trying to look like my girlfriend, Nicole? Now she likes her big ugly beak! She changed her mind about the surgery and she blew all that money we saved on her collection of John Stamos memorabilia. I didn't even know she was a fan, now our basement is chockablock Stamos.
Thanks a lot, Nicole. Now I've got no money left, a house full of John Freakin' Stamos crap, and a girlfriend with a gigantic Durante nose. Thanks.
P.S. You rocked in Days of Thunder.
June 19, 1954 | Kathleen Turner | actress
I can't believe you are only 49! How is it that you look so much like a man? I mean, I've seen manly women before. There's this one chick in my office who exactly like Dom DeLuise. The resemblance is uncanny. In fact just last week, I gave her a rubber chicken. She didn't get the joke. It's a good thing too, because she could probably kick my ass six ways to Sunday. My point is: You used to be kind of hot. In that Romancing Sharon Stone movie you were in with Kirk Douglas, I thought you were really pretty. Now you're just mannish and you did little to dispel this notion by accepting an offer to play a transvestite father on one of those tripe TV sitcoms.
Let me know when the operation is. I'll send you another card.
P.S. Are you related to the guys from Bachman-Turner Overdrive? In a word, they are the second-best band ever to come out of Canada. Loverboy is first.
June 18, 1942 | Roger Ebert | film critic
I'm sitting at home the other day and I'm thinking to myself, "Kyle, I would love to see a movie right now." So I flip on the TV to see what the hell they got going on on that HBO channel. I'm not usually a big fan of the TV. I'm more of a reader (mostly cereal boxes). Anyway, the HBO's got this film on and I'll be damned if I know what it was. I watched the whole damn thing, except the opening credits. I threw out the paper and I refuse to buy TV Guide. If you only know what those bastards at TV Guide are doing to me, you'd boycott also. Now, I've seen this movie, which kind of sucked ass to begin with, and I don't know what the hell it is.
So, I need your help. I'm going to give you a plot description. If you could get back to me with the name of the movie, I'd appreciate it. It starred Paul Lynde and Spencer Tracy as rogue detectives on a mission of great importance. The girl who played Cindy Crabtree from "My Mother the Car" was the love interest. Anyway, the two men were on madcap adventures when they ran into an evil man with a peg leg who was trying to steal this coffee urn (ably portrayed by a randy Bob Hope). This film took place somewhere in the deep South. I want to say Alabama, but I don't think that's right.
Now get up off your titanium-reinforced sofa and help me out.
You can have some cake first.
June 17, 1951 | Joe Piscopo | actor
Dear Mr. Piscopo,
Happy 52nd Birthday!
This morning, I was scanning the shelves at my local Blockbuster Video for some good Piscopo movies when a man in a Stetson hat accosted me and demanded I return his typewriter. I'd never seen the man before, and, what's more, I don't even own a typewriter. I tried calming the man but he was irate and waved his hands furiously as he repeated his demands. I decided the Man in the Stetson Hat must be a crazed lunatic. I quickly struck him in the neck with a defensive maneuver taught to me by a Nepalese sherpa, and the mad fellow went down in the Action/Adventure aisle. Action/Adventure, indeed!
I high-tailed it out of the video store, Mr. Piscopo, headed straight home, and, after two glasses of rye to soothe my nerves, I decided to type this letter to you seeking advice, because you are a very big movie star and must deal with crazed lunatics like this all the... Oh. This typewriter. Oops. Never mind. Please disregard.
Happy Birthday, Joe!
All the best,
June 16, 1968 | Yasmine Bleeth | actress
Happy 35th Birthday! Two things I love about Yaz: the mutton-chop sideburns and that "Move out" song. Sometimes, when I'm in the shower, I like to put foamy shampoo lather on my face and pretend I've got the mutton chops, too. Then I'll crank up my waterproof AM/FM radio and just scream at the top of my lungs, Move out, don't mess around, move out, don't bring me down... This usually lasts about three minutes and then I pass out from yazphyxiation. My doctor says I shouldn't yaz so much, but I just can't help my yaz from yazzing whenever I yaz.
June 13, 1986 | Ashley Olsen | actress
June 13, 1986 | Mary-Kate Olsen | Daytime Emmy-nominated actress
Dear M-K & A,
Happy 17th Birthday! Man alive, 17 years old already? It seems like just yesterday you tykes were spitting up baby drool on Uncle Jesse, and now look at you: billionaire jailbait! The cherubic objects of gold-digging, cradle-robbing fantasies of men and boys alike!
Well, on this, your Big 17th, I'm sure you two are gonna party like it's 1999, which you kids are too young to remember. Also, today marks a countdown until your inevitable Maxim photo-shoot. We'd like to be the first to wish you luck on that.
Further down the line, good luck, Ashley, with your eventual slip into soft-core Skinamax B-movie roles, your brief pill addiction, your stay at the clinic/spa for "exhaustion," your disastrous week-long marriage to a Culkin, your painful tattoo removal procedure, your Playboy shoot, your shoplifting trial, your ghost-written tell-all autobiography, and, finally, your big comeback as a special guest star playing "Mother-in-Law" on a prime-time sitcom.
Mary-Kate, congratulations and good luck with your People's Choice award, your fling with Colin Farrell, your three Oscar snubs, your marriage to a Stroke, your two sons, Dakota and Madison, and, finally, your decision to retire from acting at age 29 to spend more time with your kids on your New Zealand cattle ranch, while penning award-winning mysteries and children's books.
Happy 17th Birthday, Mary-Kate and Ashley! We'll see you in 364...
June 12, 1941 | Marv Albert | sportscaster/gimp
YES! Happy Birthday!
Look man, I understand. You are into freaky sex. Big deal. If liking hot candle wax on down your back and biting S & M mistresses is wrong, I don't want to be right. Am I right, my man? Up high! Besides, there are worse things in the world that getting your ass beaten red by a large woman in leather chaps. We have a such a problem with sex in this country. The rest of the world thinks we're ridiculous. If liking oral sex is a crime, I'd have been in jail a long time ago. Are you with me? All right. Come to think of it, I was in jail a while ago. I really thought that cop was a prostitute.
Hey, enjoy your birthday, brother.
June 11, 1933 | Gene Wilder | wonka
Dear Mr. Wilder,
I am a HUGE fan of your books. Honestly, I used to read them over and over again as a child. My favorite character was always Missy. She got into so much trouble on the prairie. When they made it into a TV show, I made sure that I saw every single episode. I'm curious as to why you weren't in any of them. Certainly, you would have made a fine guest star. Did the TV station not want you to do it because the Afro hadn't been invented during the time your books and the TV show were set? It's a real shame. You should take pride in knowing that they did a good job despite your not being there. Honestly, I didn't even know that the person who worte "Little House On The Prairie" was still alive. I'm glad you are though, Mr. Wilder. Any plans for more books?
P.S. I've enclosed my copy of "Little House On The Prairie" for you to sign. I hope it's not too much trouble.
P.P.S. If you do write another book, I think I good idea would be for Missy to get cornered by a vicious grizzly bear. She's so good at getting out of those pickles.
June 7, 1975 | Nick Jezarian | Crip turned Blood
Dear Mr. Jezarian,
We at yankee-potroast.COM demand you and your "YPR" comrades cease and desist these foolish antics at once. Your cheap tomfoolery is sullying the good name our wonderful Oregon restaurant has worked so many years to build. Many poweful A-list celebrities (e.g. Fred "Rerun" Berry, Bruce Vilanche, and Tina Yothers...) have taken restraining orders on us because of your immature attempts at what you have written off as honest "humor." "Humor," indeed, Mr. Jezarian. You want funny? You should come up to Oregon and watch our very own Gary Whipple and his friend Billy Wood. Together they comprise an hilarious ventriloquist act that really gets the kids rolling. Then, you may enjoy some of our delicious Yankee pot roast. It's the talk of the town.
Happy 28th Birthday!
June 6, 1939 | Gary U.S. Bonds | government-issued entertainer
Dear Mr. U.S. Bonds,
Happy 64th Birthday!
Good lord, Gary! Do you just, like, really, really, really support the war effort? Or did you owe some back taxes and/or declare bankruptcy and work out some cruel and unusual settlement with the federales wherein you would endorse United States bonds each and every time you signed your name?
Because, Gary, I understand. I had to strike a similar deal with those Columbia House fat cats in exchange for money owed on unwanted CDs I've never returned. I've got hundreds of 'em. You want Ace of Bass or Color Me Badd? I'm trying to get rid of them.
Well, happy happy, G.U.S.B.
P.S. Milli Vanilli? Lisa Loeb? Seriously, I need to unload these. Anything you want, you can have 'em.
June 5, 1971 | Mark Wahlberg | funky bunchkateer
Dear Marky Mark,
I'm going to try to get through this without crying but I can't make any promises. I feel like ... I feel like I don't know you anymore. I mean, where's the scornful look on your face? Where's the "throw caution to the wind" young man who'd drop his pants at the snap of my fingers? Where's the great white hope of the hip-hop nation?
I saw your last movie. Your pants were on the whole time. THE WHOLE TIME! Is it too much to ask for your to take time from your busy schedule to pants-drop? Are you too good for pants-dropping now? Who the hell do you think you are? You disgust me.
Happy Birthday, jerk.
June 4, 1928 | Dr. Ruth | sexologist
Dear Dr. Ruth,
Happy 75th Birthday, Dr. Ruth! That’s a lot of years and boy does your face show it! The other day, I was talking with my buddy Mikey, being real open about sex, like you recommend. So I showed him pictures of my wife and me getting it on. Nothing fancy, you know, just the typical one-hour-photo development jobs, no fancy-schmancy borders or anything. Anyway, so I’m showinghim these pictures so I can illustrate to him this ancient, long-lost Kama Sutra position I learned called the “Curl My Tail and Call Me Porky.” So like I said, we’re in the middle of this show-and-tell and he’s about to bust out the pictures he found of his mom and pop doing the fandango calypso when we look up at the television and see your mug. I think you were on Larry King or something. Or maybe it was actually Larry King and he just looks like you. Either way, you are one shriveled hag. But you know a lot about sex. That makes you cool in me and Mikey’s book. He also claims that’s why you have that perpetual grin on your face because all you do is think and talk about sex. Personally, I think it’s the plastic surgery. Either that or you’re all hopped up on Viagra and candy corns. I once drank a case of Milwaukee’s Best (I sincerely hope it’s not the best they have to offer) and ate a bag of candy corns in one sitting. Let me tell you, that combination is like the underground version of Viagra. Yee-ha!
Before I go, I have two quickie (no pun intended, hee hee) questions for you. Can you recommend a good “toy” for a happily married 79 year old? It’s my Aunt Mildred’s birthday next week. And second, can you please, please say that line from Vacation, “Russ, he’s not going to Pork her,” the next time you’re on air? I’d much appreciate it.
Happy Birthday, ya old pervert. And remember, the Humpty Dance, is yo’ chance to do the hump.
Keep on humpin’,
P.S. My wife and I want to invite you over for some... coffee. We’re into new things. Page me if you’re interested.
June 3, 1929 | Chuck Barris | dangerous mind
Happy 74th Birthday!
I'm a game-show host on Provo, Utah's Public Access Channel 8. I host a crude version of "Match Game 74" (formerly hosted by legendary game-show host Gene Rayburn). The only modification that I've made to the original game-show concept is that the loser of each round gets treated with a series of painful electrical shocks. Losers are also provided with a month's supply of Turtle Wax. The winners get $50 ($500 if they complete the bonus round). Thus far, only two people have completed the full bonus round. If they fail to match the bonus, they are administered a series of painful electrical shocks.
Anyway, I'm trying to break into the C.I.A. They don't seem to have any openings. Do you think that you could put in a good word for me? As my electrical-shock treatments demonstrate, I have no problem inflicting pain on others. Also, I'm an N.R.A.-certified marksman, able to shoot a drinking glass off of my wife's head at 500 feet. I'd be extremely grateful if you could help me out. C.I.A. Director Tenet will not return my phone calls and former Director Woolsey is of no help.
P.S. I'm looking to remake "The Gong Show," with those that get gonged given a series of painful electric shocks.
© MMIII, Yankee Pot Roast Light & Magic