Oh now it is a happy birthday for Bram Stoker ? Why does it have to be a happy birthday for him and not for me ? What's he ever done for that ? apart from telling us about some psycho weirdo that has nothing better to do than suck the blood of other people seldom with their consent while roaming his lands at night cause he's got sensitive skin and no Nivea cream for sun protection ?
People better wish me a happy birthday a century after I die and that's all there is to it