areyoutherabbit? ♦ gotadatewithsuicide




Mort: I don't wanna call her. I want to go to sleep. I want to take a nap. Okay. No nap. I give her a call about the magazine. I go write some crap for a couple of hours and then I get to take a nap, right? Chico
[beating his neck]
Mort: Chi-i-i-i-co-o-o-o, don't be disco-o-o-oura-a-a-aged. All right, go ahead and be discouraged, you blind bastard, see if I care.

Amy: But I just wanted you to be happy, Mort.
Mort: Well, I guess you shouldn't HAVE FUCKED HIM THEN.
[slams phone on receiver and cracks his jaw

[Ted punches his window]
Mort: Bummer, Ted.

Amy: Will you call me if you need anything?
Mort: I doubt it.

"I know I can do it," Todd Downey said, helping himself to another ear of corn from the steaming bowl. "I'm sure that in time, every bit of her will be gone and her death will be a mystery... even to me." 

11.3.10 20:30

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