It's time for all good gothy people (I get to poke fun of myself. Shut up.) to light a single black candle, turn on Disintegration and dance around the room weeping black tears of joy while wishing HAAAAAPPYYY 57th BIRTHDAAAY (only in mortal years) to a man so goth he once turned down Tim Burton's invitation to score Edward Scissorhands because it was "too mainstream;" The Cure's Robert Smith! (aka Goth Jeebus, Goth Elvis or Bobby Goth)

















