“—long do we have to stay in this thing, Rick? I’m really about to freak out, here.”
“Shut the fuck up and just don’t, don’t move Morty. Just stay still and be quiet.”
“Like, really, really fr-freak out.”
“Well, don’t.”
“God. It’s dark, it’s so dark. I c-c-can’t move.’”
“...”
“Hey, hey. Morty. Stop breathing so fast.”
“...”
“C-calm down now, little buddy. Jesus. Hey. Breathe.”
“...”
“Yeah, like that. Just, just a little longer, Morty, okay? For grand, for Grandpa?”
“You know, Rick—”
“Whisper, Morty, goddamn.”
“You know, Rick, I knew one day we were gonna die together but I never thought I’d share a coffin with, with you. Or at– at least, I thought I’d be. You know. Dead?”
“Okay, smartass. W-we’re gonna have to stay in here a good long while, if you keep talking. If they hear us, we’re dog meat, and Groflommites have fly-fart-ass hearing. Just so you know.”
“I don’t like this.”
“Yeah, and? You’re a pussy. S-spread your knees more. I can’t feel my fuckin’ leg.”
“Where? There’s nowhere to move. I can’t even breathe.”
“Just move your leg so we can–”
“...”
“Rick–”
“Jesus Christ!”
“It’s not what you think it is—”
“What is it, your phone? L-listen, Morty. This is the part where I say: ‘It’s not something Grandpa hasn’t felt before. Don’t worry about it. Happens to everyone.’ But this– this coffin-boner with your grandpa is pretty f-fuckin’ weird.”
“I can’t help it!”
“Can’t help what, getting boners every few seconds? Ow! Hey! Get your elbow out of my liver, would you? It’s, it’s fucking delicate.”
“W-whatever.”
“...”
“Morty? M-morty, don’t start hyperventilating on me again.”
“M-m-m-aybe everything about this is pretty fuckin’ weird. Maybe our whole goddamn lives are pretty weird, Rick.”
“Oh, boy.”
“Maybe you, it’s your… You know what? Never mind.”
“What, I made you into a freak? A grandpa fucker?”
“Fuck you, Rick.”
“Well, yeah, seems like that’s the big idea, M-morty.”
“...”
“It’s better that we doOUUGHn’t talk about it. Trust me.”
“Ouch! What the–!”
“Okay, we’re, we’re moving now, they’re moving us. This is good. If we can get to the crypt I’ll be able to steal the nutsack and it’s beaaaaaach blanket bingo, baby, we are soooo good.”
“…”
“…”
“Don’t move your l-leg so much, stop it.”
“It’s rubbing back and forth on my– on the—”
“I can’t do anything, Morty, m’ just trying to h-hold on for dear life, here.”
“That’s–ah, oh my god– d-don’t move!”
“Even shame doesn’t make it go away? You’re real fucked in the head, Morty.”
i impulse bought some chickpea tofu recently and i gotta say. (marinated and cooked) the texture was not for me. thrown in a rice bowl it was fine. but i think i would rather just use normal tofu or normal chickpeas in the future
My hair was getting long enough to annoy me--it’s real short, like just around my ears, but the back was most of the way down my neck and the front kept getting in my eyes. Unfortunately, I’ve only had my hair cut twice in the last decade and both times were done for free by college friends, so I don’t actually know how to go get a haircut like a normal person, and, y’know, it’s 2.5 months until I go back to school.
So this morning I got a pair of scissors and cut it myself.
It’s not actually that bad, and I’m kind of glad I did it because now I understand exactly why I don’t have enough talent to do this (my hair is really thick and someone who actually understands how layers work ought to do it), and of course it’ll grow out, but my parents, who are currently out of town, are gonna kill me.
(and by kill me I mean give me that confused look and scoff kind of awkwardly like they do whenever I make I’m-not-straight jokes because they support me but they don’t actually understand it)