Yep, I celebrate that greatest of days - the day I emerged from my mom and started screaming once I figured out what the fuck had just happened.
Its a day that purely revolves around me, though unlike every other day of the year, I get to wear my boxer shorts on the outside of my pants and eat all the Maltesers my poor little face can manage. For a very, very long time, I've watched movies and cartoons on the big day, and maybe go out for lunch too or get an anxiety migraine. It's usually a tasteful and understated occasion, and naturally people feel the need to give me presents because hey, I'm fantastic.