My birthday is almost 2 months away, which means it's not too late to tell everyone. I'm only getting on here and telling people, because I've been getting asked a lot lately. So, Rob and Big, since you asked the other day, this is your chance to jot down what I want.

(This blog post is dedicated to Randy Pausch, who inspired me to write this. Otherwise, I didn't have much to write about.)

In my time as a pop musician, Gap model, boyfriend of famous beautiful celebrities, and humanitarian, I have come to realize that life is precious and short. I don't take the time to appreciate the finer things, and that's going to change soon.  

Phish fans are the worst. You know the type. You may have worked with one, or be related to one. If you've been to college since the mid-90's, then you definitely know one. If you've had pizza delivered, then you've had your pizza delivered by a Phish fan.

For a long time, they would infiltrate my concert, pushing my fans aside to get "close to the action." These peaceful-loving fans are not always so peaceful. If you show one sign of non-chill or if you make a face toward their unwashed hair or smoky blunt, they're likely to break your face. They usually boo me when I don't jam out and let the song go on for an hour.

I didn't know what to do until I read this about keeping unwanted fans out of events. Here are few things I've thought of so far. Let me know what you think.

I've been told before that I look like a lot of people: a young Bruce Springsteen, a white Jimi Hendrix, a better version of Brad Pitt, and a suave Jason Segel. But this weekend, I was told that I look like one of the Jonas Brothers .

I looked them up online, and saw curly and wavy black hair, prominent noses, and soft white baby skin. They haven't even lost their first teeth. They wear kids clothes from Target and probably get the healthy kids' meal at McDonald's. So, I'd like to say to that person who told me this (my cousin Sarah) that there's no way I look like a fourth Jonas brother.