Happy Birthday, Finbar

I love you. Plain and simple, but quite possibly the truest thing in the entire universe. I wish that we were not celebrating yet another birthday separated by hours of highway. Here's to 31 years of funkadelic grooviness and chocolate chip freckles. I'm saving extra big birthday kisses and a particularly massive dose of snugglebunnies for you and I'll deliver them in person after exams.

In the meantime, go see Bobby at my "favorite" bar and have a birthday Guinness. I'll be hoisting a virtual White Russian in your honor.