Happy 42nd Birthday Mike Raburn

[Henry]

It all happened 42 years ago this coming Monday.  Down at the old Kerbs Hospital down in St. Albans, shortly after 8 a.m., a little boy was born.  His name, Mike Raburn.  As time went on he grew into a young man:



He lost some hair on the top of his head, started wearing glasses and enjoys a good cigar while cooking on his barbecue.  No one ever questions where the ashes on his cigar went:



We all wish you a very Happy 42nd Birthday Mike

[Mike Raburn]

Ah geeze.
How embarrassing.

Thanks for the  salutation Henry but I assume you had an accomplise.

By the way, the ash from my stoggies add FLAVOR.

[Mike Raburn]

OH heck no!

I just looked at this on a real computer.

Henry,
NOW I know you had a cohort.!

[edakrupp]

you sure looked like a chirpy little fella

[Formerflatlander]

Happy 42 Mike!!
Keep your current profile picture, but see if you can photoshop a cigar into it.  You're right about the ashes adding flavor. 

[Chris Santee]

Happy Birthday, Sarge.

[Mike Raburn]

Chris said Sarge!

Thanks for the "kind" words all.

Formerflat, I'll check into that photoshop thing.........

edakrupp, what do you mean by "LOOKED" like a chirpy little fella. ? I have aged well, sorta!!!!!