Birthdays are great, aren't they? People you like give you nice things and more often than not there's cake involved. And cake being involved in any situation is never a bad thing. (Go on, try to think of a situation where cake wouldn't be a good idea.) For my birthday this year, I absconded to Edinburgh for the weekend with seven foxy ladies, which totally beats last year, where Michael Jackson selfishly went and died the day before and stole my thunder. The absolute cheek of some people.
So I've decided to show off some of my lovely presents, including a stack of graphic novels and some rather brilliant DVDs.
The Bear went and outdid himself this year, (seeing as I'm so ridiculously gay for classic pin-up girls) with a 1972 Playboy collection of Vargas girls and a vintage deck of Vargas playing cards. Drool.
I can't even begin to describe how amazingly gorgeous every individual card is, so I won't. I'll just use this photo instead.
They just don't make sexy playing cards like they used to.