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NOVEMBER 11, 2008: Happy birthday, Calista Flockhart!

Today you’re the ripe old age of 44! Shh, do you hear that? No, it’s not the sound of people laughing at how bad your boyfriend’s last Indiana Jones movie was… it’s the sound of your breast milk turning to dust. Better start stealing some Boniva out of Sally Field’s purse, or you’ll wake up one day to find your bones are as brittle as your permanently unwashed-looking hair (psst: size of a dime).

Only in America could a girl who was voted “Most Likely To Accidentally Fall Through A Sewer Drain” in high school go on to become the star of shows like Ally McBeal and Brothers & Sisters. Your bony ass was fodder for late late night talk show hosts for years, and with good reason. You were so skinny, a fisherman could have put you on a hook and used you as bait. There was so little meat on your bones, even Hannibal Lecter would have looked at you and said “fuck it.” And your boobs were so small, you could have used a bent teaspoon as a bra in a pinch.

You’ve managed gain a few pounds through the years though. Good for you! What do you weigh in at now? 87 pounds? Keep at it! Just 7 more pounds until you weigh as much as Oprah’s left breast.

So here’s to you, Calista Flockhart! I’d tell you to go eat a cupcake, but you’d probably just puke it up. (And just so you know, Jane Krakowski was the real star of Ally McBeal.)

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SEPTEMBER 27th: Happy birthday, Avril Lavigne! Today you’re 24… which means you should have outgrown your hideous quasi-rebellion pink striped hair by now. It’s time to give it up. Your head looks like the ass end of Gloria Estefan’s favorite Flamenco dress.

(And for the record, your fang teeth are equally FUGLY. No wonder you’re self conscious about them. File those shits down. And while you’re at it, buy your lawn gnome husband Deryck Whibley a nose job, too. He looks like a Russ Troll that just got flattened by a Mini Cooper.)

Your music is painful and should be outlawed in all countries. Few things in life are as annoying as hearing your song “Girlfriend” blaring out of a teal Chrysler Lebaron being driven by some pimple-faced 16 year old bitch in an Abby Dawn t-shirt.

You think you’re punk rock just because you wear fishnets and say “fuck you”? Please. You’re a poser. Maybe your delusions come from your cheap, tainted, Hot Topic makeup. China made perhaps?

Let me read a quote from your interview with Us Weekly, where you talked about your “generosity”:

“I am a very giving person. When the hurricane thing happened, I went to my closet, filled six boxes of stuff and said to my assistant, ‘Take it to Katrina!’ I also like to give stuff to people who are my ‘workers,’ especially if they don’t make much money.”

Here’s a fucking great idea, you disgusting rat-faced sloth: pay your employees more. And stop acting like you’re Mother Teresa because you donated some ripped t-shirts. You don’t deserve anything you have. You belong stuck behind the counter at the Flying J in your little shithole Canadian town, wondering if you’re pregnant and trying to figure out how you’re going to pass 10th grade Algebra.

So here’s to you, Avril Lavigne, you stupid bitch. Here’s a little diddy, from us to you:

Hey, hey Avril
We don’t like your music
No way, no way
You’re such a fucking poser
Hey, hey Avril
You got an ugly boyfriend…

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SEPTEMBER 12th: Happy birthday, Paul Walker! Today you’re 35… and thanks to all that man-scaping, you don’t look a day over 14! Perhaps now you will actually be able to grow a beard that doesn’t look like Matt Lauer’s head.

Three cheers to the only Mormon alive who has the patience to endure the art of Muay Thai, Jiu-Jitsu, and tone on tone foil high-lites at the beauty salon.

We squawk at those who claim you make Keanu Reeves seem like a Rhodes Scholar. Even though you look dumber than Carnie Wilson on a quiz show about the Zone Diet ..  you can’t be. Even your daughter “Meadow Rain” is proud of the fact that you refused to star in The Fast and the Furious 3. 

The entire cast of Varsity Blues hasn’t said “bro” or “dude” as many times in their entire lives as you did during your last VMA acceptance speech. And when it comes to acting, your performance as the dumb, obnoxious, pompous prick of the school in She’s All That  was moving. Come to think of it, your portrayal of the dumb, obnoxious, pompous prick of the school in The Skulls was equally believable as well. So Happy Birthday golden boy, here’s to you. Bro.

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JULY 22nd: Happy birthday, Alex Trebek! Today you’re 68… so to kick things off,  I’ll take “5 good years left” for $1000, please.

Years of hosting Jeopardy have clearly gone to your head. Is it necessary to be such a dick when people give a wrong answer? Oooh, I’m sorry, I forgot. You’re a cocky, know-it-all Canadian douchebag with an ego bigger than Heath Ledger’s post mortem fan base.

Time for Double Jeopardy! I’ll take “Potpourri” for $2000, Alex. What the hell is up with your horrible, fake Euro accents? Your French is the worst. You sound like Gerard Depardieu after a tracheotomy. I doubt you could tell the difference between escargot and your ball sack. Could you even point France out on a map without those little blue answer cards in your hand?

Oh, and by the way, good move shaving that dirty perv mustache back in 2001. You looked like you ate some chunky peanut butter and went down on a pack mule that was shedding in mid-summer.

So here’s to you, Alex Trebek. Sean Connery was right – your mother’s a whore.

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JULY 10th: Happy birthday, Jessica Simpson (aka Yoko Romo)! Today you’re 28. That number also represents your SAT score, and the number of people that downloaded your last album on iTunes.

You sing like an annoying, whiny bitch. You sound like Marlee Matlin with a chest cold. Your single Public Affair has been scientifically proven to cause renal failure in lab rats. Your high notes are squeakier than the suspension on John Goodman’s car, and your low notes are flatter than your ass in those daisy dukes. So unless your boots were made for walkin’ to a vocal coach, I suggest you give up singing and just become a full time whore.

You have to be one of the worst “actresses” in the industry (and I use that term more loosely than your vagina). Dukes Of Hazzard and Employee Of The Month were more painful to sit through than a lubeless rectal exam. I don’t know how the hell you even managed to remember your lines, considering your brain is the size of Calista Flockhart’s left nipple.

I hate to break it to you, but post nose-job Ashlee is now the hotter Simpson sister, no matter how many times you inject your lips with silicone. Didn’t you acquire a mirror after your divorce from Nick Lachey? You mouth looks like it was repeatedly stung by a bumblebee that had just been resurrected from Pet Sematary. Those things are so big and puffy, you could rent them out as bouncy houses for kids’ birthday parties. Tony Romo is an asshole, too. From Carrie Underwood to you? Come on, who downgrades that much?

So here’s to you, Jessica Simpson. Pretty much everyone hates you. Have fun, eat some meat, and step away from the silicone, you freak.

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JULY 3rd: Happy birthday, Tom Cruise! Today you’re 46, you self centered bastard. You’re so in love with yourself, I’m surprised you didn’t demand the movie be renamed “Born On The Third Of July.”

You really are getting old. Those Ray-Bans aren’t hiding the fact that your face has more wrinkles than Betty White’s ass. Your hairline is receding at a more alarming rate than the polar ice caps. And your balls are more shriveled than Sharon Osbourne’s shar pei.

You’re one short son of a bitch, too. You make Mini-Me look like Brad Garrett. You could jump to your death off of a Nintendo Wii Fit. You have to sit on Suri’s lap on airplanes. Disney World tells people “you have to be taller than Tom Cruise to board this ride.” You do chin-ups with a staple.

You’ve made more movies than Ron Jeremy, and you’re yesterday’s news. No one gives a shit about you anymore. I saw Collateral in the theater and it was quieter than Suri’s birth room. These days, the only Mission: Impossible you should be worried about is the one that involves you and your penis pump.

So here’s to you, Tom Cruise, you scientologist freak. Happy Birthday. Buy yourself a pair of tube socks to stuff down your tightie whities – I saw Risky Business and it wasn’t pretty.

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JULY 2nd: Happy birthday, Lindsay Lohan! Today you’re 22, and your age is finally catching up to your blood alcohol level. Congratulations on finally figuring out how many licks it takes to get to the center of Samantha Ronson’s tootsie pop.

You’re one screwed up bitch. Maybe that’s because your childhood was worse than one of the Jackson’s. You and your father have spent more time in prison than Wentworth Miller. And despite all your training, you can’t sing, you can’t act, and you certainly can’t drive for shit. I’d get in a car with a legally blind Asian chick before I’d drive around the block with you.

So whether your Herbie’s fully loaded with cocaine or Grey Goose, we promise to always love you more than your new illegitimate sister.

So here’s to you, Lindsay Lohan. Heres to hoping you pick a sexuality and go with it.