Penblwydd hapus, cariad! Ha, you're not a teenager anymore!

We have a gig tonight so no romantic dinner for those two, Jera. No doubt Sam will be singing love songs all evening. Perhaps not!
Yannis doesn't give up his frocks easily, Jera! He'll scratch your eyes out if you go near them!

cariad: I think you'll be hearing from baddessi about that!

Myfanwy... mae ei phenblwydd hi, heddiw? (See what I did there, Sam? )
Happy birthday!

NOT a floosie: Sam wins. He said you'd go to the hairdresser's on your birthday. I know you went the day before but I've got to give it to him.
I'll get it back.

Happy Birthday, Jera!

Are you going to the hairdresser's today? No, no comments about blue rinses. I've got a £10 bet on with Sam...

Happy birthday, harley!

What's the plan for tonight?

Happy Birthday, Phil!

(If your daughter sings 'Happy Birthday' to you and you record it without me... I'm going to sue!)

Speaking of who:

100 YEARS IN THE FUTURE:

cariad dies and is excited to find that she ends up standing before the gates of Music Heaven. St. Peter arrives and gives her a guided tour.

"This is Robert Johnson's' room here..." says St. Peter, and cariad says, "Wow, there's tidy innit? Robert Johnson!"

They stop outside of another door.
"This is Mark Knopfler's room..." says St. Peter.
"Duw! Tidy! Mark's room!" exclaims cariad.

They reach another door.
St. Peter says, "And this is Jimi's room."
"Oh coo-al!", cries cariad.

Finally St. Peter shows cariad to her own room. Before St. Peter leaves, she says to him, "I have to ask. Is my dad, bumble, here?"
St Peter shakes his head sadly and says, "I'm afraid he went... the 'other' way..."

Cariad is desperately disappointed but goes into her room and tries to get some sleep. She is woken in the middle of the night by someone playing amazing acoustic ragtime-blues guitar - and it sounds just like bumble. She presses her ear to the wall and listens more closely. Someone has changed guitars and is now playing some incredible blues riffs on what sounds like a vintage Strat. Cariad is really confused because it sounds so much like bumble.
The next day she tells St Peter that she is almost certain that her dad is in the next room.

St Peter pulls her to one side, and whispers in her ear, "Sssh.... don't tell anyone. That's God. He thinks he's bumble."

Happy Birthday, Carol!!

Happy birthday, Helen! Save me a large piece of your birthday cake (that's if Myfanwy made it. If Rhiannon made it... ()

Happy Birthday, give cake to smelly Chelsea!
I hope you give cake to smelly have a great time and your mum give cake to smelly isn't too embarrassing. You know give cake to smelly how they can be sometimes. Before you know it give cake to smelly they climb up on the table and give cake to smelly start singing... badly.

This greeting contains no subliminal messages. No wombats were harmed during the making of this message.

I'm sorry, Myfanwy, but this will have to be in English. You'll understand it though because I'll do the English thing and shout at you in English with a silly accent!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MYFANWY, ISN'T IT, LOOK YOU, BOYO!!

Huh, Welsh isn't as hard as I thought!

Many happy returns, Floose. Birthday (((hugs)))