(Untitled)

[victormakesart]

Turned twenty-two today.

Not a big deal, but my age is symmetrical now, which is pretty neat. That only happens once every eleven years.

Comments

[notacargojet]

Happy birthday, Vic.

You should have told me. I'd have gotten you something.

[victormakesart]

Thank you!

I don't need anything special. It's cool, though, to be an age with the same number of digits as the digit that it is! It hasn't happened since I was one, and it won't happen again in my lifetime.

[notacargojet]

Um, yeah, I guess so.

[victormakesart]

One, that's one one.
Twenty-two, that's two twos.
That won't happen again until three-hundred and thirty-three, and I'll be long dead before then.

[notacargojet]

Well, that's neat. I guess.

I was forty four last month.

[victormakesart]

Congrats!

I'm going to get you something, forthwith.

[notacargojet]

Oh, don't. I'm trying to pretend I don't have birthdays anymore.

[victormakesart]

It'll just be an I-like-you-just-fine-and-want-to-get-you-a-present present.

[notacargojet]

I guess I can let you do that.

[victormakesart]

You better, mister.

[notacargojet]

Yeah, yeah. Punk.

[victormakesart]

Don't 'punk' me. I'm a little angel.

[notacargojet]

Uh huh? Then why can't you fly?

[victormakesart]

That's... under production.

[notacargojet]

Nope. You're no angel.

[victormakesart]

Oh honey. You wound me.

I'm wounded.