I know it's late in the day, but how could I possibly let the auspicious occasion of the birthday of our one and only Dean Winchester, he of the perky nipples and the face that launched a thousand pairs of panties into orbit, pass uncelebrated at my journal?
He's made us laugh, he's made us cry. he's made us open the window because the hot flush was getting out of hand ...
He's made us love a fictional character to a degree that's probably unhealthy, and guess what? We're not even sorry.
Dean Winchester: 39 years young.
We love you!