Your favorite former prostitute from New Jersey will be breaking out the bubbly this evening. Ms. Ashley Alexandra Dupre is 24 today. Kirsten Dunst's celebrating, too. She's 27. Columbia University president Lee Bollinger is turning 63. Socialite Allison Sarofim is 41. Former Knicks coach Isiah Thomas is turning 48. Former Bronx Borough President Fernando Ferrer is 59. Socialite Cynthia Lufkin turns 47. Cloris Leachman is 83. Rapper Lloyd Banks is 27. Willie Nelson is turning 76. And David Miscavige, the head of Scientology and the only man who can give Tom Cruise orders, turns 49 today.

A former Bronx Borough President, Freddy ran losing campaigns for mayor in 2001 (Mark Green beat him in the Democratic primary) and 2005 (Michael Bloomberg handily defeated him in the general election). He remains a powerful figure in the politics of the Bronx and the city's Latino community.

Who knew so many of you speak Swedish? After something like 472 emails, we have a pretty good handle on what our boy Freddy was saying in his gay Swedish personal. First, and most important, sambo there apparently means something very different than sambo here. (In Sweden, it seems, it means living together.) Here's the full translation, from one emailer:

So what happens when you've been thoroughly trounced for mayor of New York City? If we didn't know better, we'd think that vanquished Democrat Fernando Ferrer has taken his moustache and moved to Sweden. We speak no Swedish, but, if we're interpreting correctly, it certainly seems that the dashing photo at right is in some sort of Saab-loving singles ad. (The pic — of one "Fernando Ferrer" — took up nearly a full page of QX, Sweden's leading gay monthly.) Ferrer's full blurb is below, and we bet it'd be truly hilarious if we understood what it meant.

Lately Freddy Ferrer has been doing his bit to remind us that he's one of the biggest losers you've ever seen. (The it-was-all-the-media's-fault explanation for his mayoral loss, promulgated Monday, was a nice bit of loserdom, ignoring, as it did, the multimillions by which he was outspent, the popularity and competence of his incumbent opponent, and his own general hackiness.) But it turns out today that, Freddy's best efforts to the contrary notwithstanding, the mustachioed Democrat was not, in fact, the biggest Democratic loser in any New York City mayoral election ever.

Try this on for size: We think yesterday was sort of a bad day for Bloomberg. Because here's the thing. The dude was up by more than 30 points in all final pre-election opinion polls. Thirty-eight, even, according to Quinnipiac. And yet he only won by a 20-point margin.

Oh, election morning. That heady mix of anticipation and dread. The uplifting possibility that the good guys might, finally, win, and the pit-of-the-stomach terror that the bad guys will win again and become even smugger. All that armchair Russerting — "It's a beautiful day — easier for people to turn out!" "A packed West Village polling place shows the Dems are excited!" "The college kids seem to care, and that can only be good for us!" "A friend's ex-boyfriend whose roommate works for the campaign is hearing good numbers!" All that waiting for Wolf Blitzer to yell the results at us as they come in. It's seat-of-our-pants drama, is what it is.

We've never voted for a Republican before in our life, and there's a decent chance we never will again. (When we were 12, we and a bunkmate made a giant "Duke '88" banner in arts and crafts class, which hung over our beds at camp.) Even so, not for a moment have we ever considered voting for Fernando Ferrer for mayor. Until, perhaps, now: