Recently I became immortal. It started a few months ago when I was doing some research on the Internet. And by research, I mean I clicked on a link that led me to another, then another, until I was reading something written by a stranger with no credibility. That’s how I learn.
Anyway, the stranger with no credibility was writing about some research done by another stranger with no credibility who was giving some chemicals to mice and dogs who themselves have no credibility. The chemical was resveratrol, an ingredient found in red wine. Apparently you don’t get enough of it by being a wino. You have to get it in concentrated form. I forget the details, but I think the first mouse that got the concentrated resveratrol lived 30% longer and started having an affair with Maria Shriver. One of the dogs with resveratrol got a bone and dug a hole so far into the earth he now lives with a family in Sumatra. And he’s so strong he can lick any balls he wants. No one dares stop him.
The reporter with no credibility asked the researcher who has no credibility if humans should take resveratrol. He said no. He wasn’t worried that it would cause harm, but there are no studies showing it would work in humans, and there was some doubt about delivering the chemical in pill form before it broke down and became ineffective. Then the reporter with no credibility asked the researcher with no credibility if he takes it himself. He said yes.
About thirty seconds later I found a web site that sells that shit and bought several pallets of it. I bought a brand called Longevinex because some other sources with no credibility said they might have solved the problem of keeping it from breaking down in pill form.
I’ve been taking the resveratrol for a few months. I don’t know if it’s working, but I got rid of my car. Now I go places by taking huge hops. And when people ask me questions I can’t answer, I kill them by squeezing their heads. Most important, I’ll add about thirty years to my life. Thirty years should bring me to the point where medical science can cure just about anything. If my arm falls off, I’ll inject some stem cells into the stump and grow a new one before dinner.
By then, there will be a lot of old people like me who refuse to die. They will also refuse to work. The immortal slackers will want to collect their pensions and Social Security until the sun turns into a cold dark thing about the size of a penny. No one foresaw immortality. Pension funds and Social Security are calculated on the hope that you will live an unhealthy lifestyle and take a dirt nap at 76. There simply won’t be enough money for all of the immortals.
So whose job will it be to kill all the senior citizens? Someone has to do it. You can bet that the people with jobs won’t want to hand over their paychecks to the lazy-ass immortals that do nothing but hop around town and talk about the squirrels on their lawn.
That’s why you should buy stock in life insurance companies. Those bastards will save a ton of money by never paying a claim. You can bet they’ll work some exclusion language into the policy that says something like “Does not include immortals that hop around town talking about squirrels until some guy working in a cubicle decides to take matters into his own hands.”
By the way, I remind you not to get your medical or financial advice from cartoonists.