
“Can my buddy come over for a sleepover?” I asked.
“You are forty years old,” said my wife. “Aren’t you too old for a sleepover?” Continue reading “Sleepovers”
“Can my buddy come over for a sleepover?” I asked.
“You are forty years old,” said my wife. “Aren’t you too old for a sleepover?” Continue reading “Sleepovers”
The other day, I received an urgent phone call from the Antarctic immortal, Emilio. At first, I dismissed this as a prank call. Oftentimes, Emilio drinks a very strong homemade brew and then calls us up, pretending to be famous historical figures from the past. I suspect that when he finds himself in these drunken stupors, he fails to realize that we are the immortals and not the famous people we once knew, who are long gone. Continue reading “Immortal Intervention”
Mere mortals complain of many things that the immortal doesn’t even recognize as inconveniences.
The other day, I was firmly entrenched in the middle of a line at the Motor Vehicle Administration. This line snaked around fourteen rope stanchions, extending beyond the front door before making a sharp left and ranging into the next County. Continue reading “Immortally Yours Part II: This Time it’s Personal”
I’m immortal.
Don’t get too excited. There are seven of us. One for each continent. Obviously.
We gather every June, at Devil’s Island, for our annual meeting. We selected this island purely for the irony of it all. Our Australian representative thought Easter Island would be equally as ironic, but he’s an idiot and majority rules. Besides, we didn’t want anyone to mistake our immortality for anything religious. It’s purely scientific. Continue reading “Immortally Yours”