This is a day late (and a dollar short), but I think that Scott will still accept our wishes for his happiness for the upcoming year, and our expressions of pleasure about him being born. So, let me start by saying that I wish him a great 32nd year on this planet (or whatever year it will actually be), and that I will always be grateful that his parents not only produced him, but also sent him to Earth in a rocket, and that the mild-mannered Clevengers found him and raised him as their own.
Anyway, the formatting is being weird, so let me just invite you to Scott's birthday party, and open up the floor to toasts.
Scott's fete is being sponsored by Mor, the thrifty meat that causes Jimmy to later get cancer, per WHO. Or maybe little Mary Jane stabbed him, because she would NOT be ignored. In any case, party on, Mor!