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Inhale

Cast: Mia Stallard, Dermot Mulroney, Diane Kruger, Sam Shepard, Jordi Mollà

trailer for Inhale, directed by Baltasar Kormákur, screenplay by Walter A. Doty III (2010)
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MERE MoLLA

song Lyrixx-

Molla...Molla...Ali Molla..
tuje pe vari jau...
tere Reham mo karam pe sadke jau....
mere molla...mere Ali molla.....

jaan Bhi Dedu tu AgAR Kahe....
Tere been Na rahu is jahaa me...
Ab Na sukan...Na chen ise jahaan me....

Molla....Molla....Ali Molla......
Molla...Molla...Ali Molla..
tuje pe vari jau...
tere Reham mo karam pe sadke jau....
mere molla...mere Ali molla.....

Lut rahi HE muje ye jahaa ki janjire....
ho rahi judda ye sarhade......
muje le chal tere Dar pe molla....
muje le chal tere dar pe molla.......

Molla...Molla...Ali Molla..
tuje pe vari jau...
tere Reham mo karam pe sadke jau....
mere molla...mere Ali molla.....

wRRitten By:
SANDEEP JAHAAl

poem by Sandeep Jahaal
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A Pastoral Dialogue

DERMOT, SHEELAH

A Nymph and swain, Sheelah and Dermot hight;
Who wont to weed the court of Gosford knight;
While each with stubbed knife removed the roots,
That raised between the stones their daily shoots;
As at their work they sate in counterview,
With mutual beauty smit, their passion grew.
Sing, heavenly Muse, in sweetly flowing strain,
The soft endearments of the nymph and swain.

DERMOT

My love to Sheelah is more firmly fixt,
Than strongest weeds that grow those stones betwixt;
My spud these nettles from the stones can part;
No knife so keen to weed thee from my heart.

SHEELAH

My love for gentle Dermot faster grows,
Than yon tall dock that rises to thy nose.
Cut down the dock, 'twill sprout again; but, O!
Love rooted out, again will never grow.

DERMOT

No more that brier thy tender leg shall rake:
(I spare the thistles for Sir Arthur's sake)
Sharp are the stones; take thou this rushy mat;
The hardest bum will bruise with sitting squat.

SHEELAH

Thy breeches, torn behind, stand gaping wide;
This petticoat shall save thy dear backside;
Nor need I blush; although you feel it wet,
Dermot, I vow, 'tis nothing else but sweat.

DERMOT

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Swift
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Con Voi

Mia cara, voglio farvi sapere

Qualcosa che è molto importante per me,

E qualcosa che può essere

Molto importante per lei,

Se apprezzi il mio amore solo

Come valore di tuo.

Mia cara, sono stato con voi per

Come posso ricordare.

Mi ricordo quando eravamo bambini,

E i nostri genitori erano vicini,

E siamo stati vicini, come pure,

Naturalmente

E i nostri genitori sarebbero pianificare 'gioco-date'

Come chiamati li allora e ancora adesso,

E c'era molto di più ad esso.

Si, tua sorella e tuo fratello sarebbe venuto sopra,

E potrebbe appendere fuori con mio fratello, mia sorella e me.

Ricordo che pensavo che le ragazze erano lorde,

E voi, vorrei evitare

E hai pensato che avevo una malattia,

Così sarebbe evitare me, troppo.

Ma, dopo un paio di settimane,

Siamo diventati amici,

[...] Read more

poem by James Roberts
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Es Ist Nie Vorbei

Together:
Sam bo rom bom
Es ist nie vorbei
Sam bo rom bom
Sam bo rom bom
Ich denk' an dich
Sam bo rom bom
Ich hab sehnsucht nach dir
Blmchen:
Es ist nie vorbei
Es ist zauberei
Verliebt in alle ewigkeit
Manchmal gibt es streit
Aber mit der zeit
Kommt die sehnsucht wieder
Und ich denk' an dich
Und du an mich
Wir sehen uns beide magischen
Es ist nie vorbei
Es ist zauberei
Wie ein unsichtsbares paar
E-type:
We've come a long way
It's been a rough ride
Tell me why all the good things has to come to an end
We've left no stone unturned
Tell me what
How will i miss you already waiting for your return
Together:
Sam bo rom bom
Es ist nie vorbei
Sam bo rom bom
Sam bo rom bom
Ich denk' an dich
Sam bo rom bom
Ich hab sehnsucht nach dir
Blmchen:
Es ist nie vorbei
Es ist zauberei
Verliebt in alle ewigkeit
Manchmal gibt es streit
Aber mit der zeit
Kommt die sehnsucht wieder
Und ich denk' an dich
Und du an mich
Wir sehen uns beide magischen
Es ist nie vorbei
Es ist zauberei
Wie ein unsichtsbares paar
E-type:

[...] Read more

song performed by E-type
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sam

(john farrar/hank marvin/don black)
I heard that youre on your own now
So am i
Im living alone now
I was wrong
So were you
What will you do?
Are you glad to be free?
Are you feeling lost just like me?
Longing for company
Oh sam, sam, you know where I am
Come around and talk awhile
I need your smile
You need a shoulder
Oh sam, sam, you know where I am
And the door is open wide
Come on inside
Longing to see you
Oh sam, sam, you know where I am
I find the days hard to face now
Empty rooms
Theres much too much space now
And the nights go so slow
Im sure you know
Wish I knew what to do
It would be so nice seeing you
And it might help you too
Oh sam, sam, you know where I am
Come around and talk awhile
I need your smile
You need a shoulder
Oh sam, sam, you know where I am
And the door is open wide
Come on inside
Longing to see you
Oh sam, sam, you know where I am
Oh sam, you know where I am
Oh sam, ooh sam
You know, you know
You know where I am

song performed by Olivia Newton-John
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Rivals

Look heah! Is I evah tole you 'bout de curious way I won
Anna Liza? Say, I nevah? Well heah's how de thing wuz done.

Lize, you know, wuz mighty purty —dat's been forty yeahs ago —
'N 'cos to look at her dis minit, you might'n spose dat it wuz so.

She wuz jes de greates' 'traction in de county, 'n bless de lam'!
Eveh darkey wuz a-co'tin, but it lay 'twix me an' Sam.

You know Sam. We both wuz wukin' on de ole John Tompkin's place.
'N evehbody wuz a-watchin' t' see who's gwine to win de race.

Hee! hee! hee! Now you mus' raley 'scuse me fu' dis snickering,
But I jes can't he'p f'om laffin' eveh time I tells dis thing.

Ez I wuz a-sayin', me an' Sam wuked daily side by side,
He a-studyin', me a-studyin', how to win Lize fu' a bride.

Well, de race was kinder equal. Lize wuz sorter on de fence;
Sam he had de mostes dollars, an' I had de mostes sense.

Things dey run along 'bout eben tel der come Big Meetin' day;
Sam den thought, to win Miss Liza, he had foun' de shoest way.

An' you talk about big meetin's! None been like it 'fore nor sence;
Der wuz sich a crowd o' people dat we had to put up tents.

Der wuz preachers f'om de Eas', an' 'der wuz preachers f'om de Wes';
Folks had kilt mos' eveh chicken, an' wuz fattenin' up de res'.

Gals had all got new w'ite dresses, an' bought ribbens fu' der hair,
Fixin' fu' de openin' Sunday, prayin' dat de day'd be fair.

Dat de Reveren' Jasper Jones of Mount Moriah, it wuz 'low'd,
Wuz to preach de openin' sermon; so you know der wuz a crowd.

Fu' dat man wuz sho a preacher; had a voice jes like a bull;
So der ain't no use in sayin' dat de meetin' house wuz full.

Folks wuz der f'om Big Pine Hollow, some come 'way f'om Muddy Creek,
Some come jes to stay fu' Sunday, but de crowd stay'd thoo de week.

Some come ridin' in top-buggies wid de w'eels all painted red,
Pulled by mules dat run like rabbits, each one tryin' to git ahead.

Othah po'rer folks come drivin' mules dat leaned up 'ginst de shaf',
Hitched to broke-down, creaky wagons dat looked like dey'd drap in half.

But de bigges' crowd come walkin', wid der new shoes on der backs;
'Scuse wuz dat dey couldn't weah em 'cause de heels wuz full o' tacks.

[...] Read more

poem by James Weldon Johnson
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Oh Diane

Written by lindsey buckingham and richard dashut.
Oh no, here I go again
Fallin in love again
Love is like a grain of sand
Slowly slippin through your hand
Oh, oh, whoa...
Oh, oh, diane
Oh, oh, diane
Will I love you, I will, always
Will you stand by me always
Cause love is like a grain of sand
Slowly slippin through your hand
Oh, oh, whoa...
Oh, oh, diane
Oh, oh, diane
(talkin bout diane)
Oh, oh, whoa...
Oh, oh, diane
Oh, oh, diane
(talkin bout diane)
Oh, oh, diane

song performed by Fleetwood Mac
Added by Lucian Velea
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Uncle Sam

Here they come again hop scotching up to my door
One by one again knockety knock knocking upon my floor
Swinging on my gate they gain entry by the yard
Pulling at my hair they scream paint your thoughts upon my card
But not tonight Ive got studies to examine
Tomorrow Ill be watching all the queens men
A talent contest on monday with my uncle sam
Who now takes up all of my time he gives me things to do
cause hes a wonderful man
But Im sailing across the sea to see my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to be with my uncle sam
To be with my uncle sam
Silly little sniggers from the women liberators
But Ill stand and hold my post
Polished buttons and erect Ill raise the flag
Ill show those women whos the most
But not tonight Ive got studies to examine
Tomorrow Ill be watching all the queens men
A talent contest on monday with my uncle sam
Who now takes up all of my time, gives me things to do
Hes a wonderful man
But Im sailing across the sea to see my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to be with my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to see my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to be with my uncle sam
But not tonight Ive got studies to examine
Tomorrow ah ah ah
And tomorrow Ill be watching all the queens men
A talent contest on monday with my uncle sam
Who now takes up all of my time he gives me things to do
cause hes a wonderful man
Im sailing across the sea to see my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to be with my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to see my uncle sam
Im sailing across the sea to be with my uncle sam

song performed by Madness
Added by Lucian Velea
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Zdravo, Moje Ime Je Sara

Moje ime je Sara.
Ja sam ona koja nisam,
koja nikada nisam.
Ovo su ruke za moje zagrljaje.
Osakacene prazninom.
Okrunjene u prstenju koje sumrakom skidam
i u tmine bacam.
One pisu istoriju plasticne igracke
sahranjene u grobovima djetinjstva
koje nije doraslo do kolijevke.

Zovem se Sara.
Ja sam ona koja pokusava da bude.
Ovo su stopala za moje korake.
Ukocene putevima.
Vezana zveketavim nakitom
koji sumrakom skidam i u tmine bacam.

Ona hodaju nepostojecim ulicama
kojima gaze jos samo prividi staza.
Silaze u bunare
da u njima udave
proplivalu nadu za kraj.

Moje ime je Sara.
Ja sam ona koja bi htjela.
Ovo je vrat za vase ruke.
Dotaknite lagano.
Vezan je hiljadama lancica
koje sumrakom skidam
i u tmine bacam.

Ona jedu halapljivo,
krugove u koje sazimam snove
dozvoljavam da dira.
Neka je.

Zovem se Sara.
Ja sam ona koja ne pristaje.
Ovo je kosa za moje pletenice.
U njima trake od srebra
i bisere sjajne sumrakom skidam
i u tmine bacam. Neka ih.

[...] Read more

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Three Ha'Pence a Foot

I'll tell you an old-fashioned story
That Grandfather used to relate,
Of a joiner and building contractor;
'Is name, it were Sam Oglethwaite.

In a shop on the banks of the Irwell,
Old Sam used to follow 'is trade,
In a place you'll have 'eard of, called Bury;
You know, where black puddings is made.

One day, Sam were filling a knot 'ole
Wi' putty, when in thro' the door
Came an old feller fair wreathed wi' whiskers;
T'ould chap said 'Good morning, I'm Noah.'

Sam asked Noah what was 'is business,
And t'ould chap went on to remark,
That not liking the look of the weather,
'E were thinking of building an Ark.

'E'd gotten the wood for the bulwarks,
And all t'other shipbuilding junk,
And wanted some nice Bird's Eye Maple
To panel the side of 'is bunk.

Now Maple were Sam's Monopoly;
That means it were all 'is to cut,
And nobody else 'adn't got none;
So 'e asked Noah three ha'pence a foot.

'A ha'penny too much,' replied Noah
'A Penny a foot's more the mark;
A penny a foot, and when t'rain comes,
I'll give you a ride in me Ark.'
But neither would budge in the bargain;
The whole daft thing were kind of a jam,
So Sam put 'is tongue out at Noah,
And Noah made 'Long Bacon ' at Sam

In wrath and ill-feeling they parted,
Not knowing when they'd meet again,
And Sam had forgot all about it,
'Til one day it started to rain.

It rained and it rained for a fortni't,
And flooded the 'ole countryside.
It rained and it kept' on raining,
'Til the Irwell were fifty mile wide.

The 'ouses were soon under water,

[...] Read more

poem by Marriott Edgar
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Hello, my name is Sarah

My name is Sarah
I am the one who is not
Who never is
These are the hands for my embraces
Mutilated in emptiness
Husked in the rings at twilight I take off
And throw into the dark.
They are writing a history of a plastic toy
Buried in the tombs of childhood
That never grew towards a cradle.

My name is Sarah
I am the one who is trying to be
These are the feet for my steps.
Frozen in the paths
Tied by tinkling jewelerry
At twilight I take off
And throw into the dark.

They walk the streets that there are no more
The streets trodden by mere silhouettes of paths
They go down the wells
To strangle in them
A swimming hope for the end.

My name is Sarah.
I am the one who wants.
This is the neck for your hands.
Slightly touch.
It's tied in thousands of necklaces
At twilight I take off
And throw into the dark.

The darkness greedily eats
The circles I push the dreams into
I let it touch.
It's all right.

My name is Sarah.
I am the one who does not consent.
This is the hair for my plaits.
The silver ribbons
And shiny pearls at twilight I take off
And throw it into the dark.
It's all right.

I have broken all the rules
I have broken cliches
Magic circles
I tore the pages

[...] Read more

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Diplomatist

I live on Canada en Bas —
De fines' lan' you see —
An' Oncle Sam, a fr'en of mine,
He live nex' door to me.

Now, long tam' Sam an' me mak' trade,
W'enever that we meet,
An' Sam, he drive de bargain hard,
Sometime bigarre! he sheat.

I not say mooch about it, me,
I never t'ink no harm
Before I fin' mon Oncle Sam
He wan' my little farm.

An' w'en I not to heem will give
De lan' my fader hown,
Den Sam get mad an' say to me,
'I'll play my hand alone.

You kip away; I not will trade,
Don' come my place about!'
Ah! den I see hees leetle game
Was w'at you call 'freeze-hout.'

Mais, I can stan' de fros', for hice
To me is not'ing new;
Sir John mak' freeze agains' de Yanks —
See if dey lak' it, too.

But w'en Sir John t'row up his han'
An' die, 'twas change indeed;
No par'ner lef' could follow up
De fin' ole chieftain's lead.

An' de Canadian peup' was tire,
For dey was not mooch please
For pay big price for jus' to nurse
Les enfants industries.

Dey say, 'We wan' to buy our t'ing
On some mooch sheaper shop,
Dose enfants industries are sure
Long tam' for growing hup.'

For eighteen year dey pull l'argent
From bottom of de purse,
We t'ink it ees long tam' enough
For dem to be on nurse.

[...] Read more

poem by Alexander MacGregor Rose
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Sir Wilfrid Laurier -- Diplomatist

I live on Canada en Bas --
De fines' lan' you see --
An' Oncle Sam, a fr'en of mine,
He live nex' door to me.

Now, long tam' Sam an' me mak' trade,
W'enever that we meet,
An' Sam, he drive de bargain hard,
Sometime bigarre! he sheat.

I not say mooch about it, me,
I never t'ink no harm
Before I fin' mon Oncle Sam
He wan' my little farm.

An' w'en I not to heem will give
De lan' my fader hown,
Den Sam get mad an' say to me,
"I'll play my hand alone.

You kip away; I not will trade,
Don' come my place about!"
Ah! den I see hees leetle game
Was w'at you call "freeze-hout."

Mais, I can stan' de fros', for hice
To me is not'ing new;
Sir John mak' freeze agains' de Yanks --
See if dey lak' it, too.

But w'en Sir John t'row up his han'
An' die, 'twas change indeed;
No par'ner lef' could follow up
De fin' ole chieftain's lead.

An' de Canadian peup' was tire,
For dey was not mooch please
For pay big price for jus' to nurse
Les enfants industries.

Dey say, "We wan' to buy our t'ing
On some mooch sheaper shop,
Dose enfants industries are sure
Long tam' for growing hup."

For eighteen year dey pull l'argent
From bottom of de purse,
We t'ink it ees long tam' enough
For dem to be on nurse.

[...] Read more

poem by Alexander MacGregor Rose
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Marksman Sam

When Sam Small joined the regiment,
'E were no' but a raw recruit,
And they marched 'im away one wint'ry day,
'Is musket course to shoot.

They woke 'im up at the crack o' dawn,
Wi' many a nudge and shake,
'E were dreaming that t' Sergeant 'ad broke 'is neck,
And 'e didn't want to wake.

Lieutenant Bird came on parade,
And chided the lads for mooning,
'E talked in a voice like a pound o' plums,
'Is tonsils needed pruning.

"Move to the right by fours," he said,
Crisp like but most severe,
But Sam didn't know 'is right from 'is left,
So pretended 'e didn't 'ear.

Said Lieutenant, "Sergeant, take this man's name."
The Sergeant took out 'is pencil,
'E were getting ashamed o' taking Sam's name,
And were thinking o' cutting a stencil.

Sam carried a musket, a knapsack and coat,
Spare boots that 'e'd managed to wangle,
A 'atchet, a spade... in fact, as Sam said,
'E'd got everything bar t'kitchen mangle.

"March easy men," Lieutenant cried,
As the musket range grew near,
"March easy me blushing Aunt Fanny," said Sam,
"What a chance with all this 'ere."

When they told 'im to fire at five 'undred yards,
Sam nearly 'ad a fit,
For a six foot wall, or the Albert 'All,
Were all 'e were likely to 'it.

'E'd fitted a cork in 'is musket end,
To keep 'is powder dry,
And 'e didn't remember to take it out,
The first time 'e let fly.

'Is gun went off with a kind o' pop,
Where 'is bullet went no-one knew,
But next day they spoke of a tinker's moke,
Being killed by a cork... in Crewe.

[...] Read more

poem by Marriott Edgar
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Sam's Christmas Pudding

It was Christmas Day in the trenches
In Spain in Penninsular War,
And Sam Small were cleaning his musket
A thing as he'd ne're done before.

They'd had 'em inspected that morning
And Sam had got into disgrace,
For when sergeant had looked down the barrel
A sparrow flew out in his face.

The sergeant reported the matter
To Lieutenant Bird then and there.
Said Lieutenant 'How very disgusting'
The Duke must be told of this 'ere.'

The Duke were upset when he heard
He said, 'I'm astonished, I am.
I must make a most drastic example
There'll be no Christmas pudding for Sam.'

When Sam were informed of his sentence
Surprise, rooted him to the spot.
'Twas much worse than he had expected,
He though as he'd only be shot.

And so he sat cleaning his musket
And polishing barrel and butt.
While the pudding his mother had sent him,
Lay there in the mud at his foot.

Now the centre that Sam's lot were holding
Ran around a place called Badajoz.
Where the Spaniards had put up a bastion
And ooh...! what a bastion it was.

They pounded away all the morning
With canister, grape shot and ball.
But the face of the bastion defied them,
They made no impression at all.

They started again after dinner
Bombarding as hard as they could.
And the Duke brought his own private cannon
But that weren't a ha'pence o' good.

The Duke said, 'Sam, put down thy musket
And help me lay this gun true.'
Sam answered, 'You'd best ask your favours
From them as you give pudding to.'

[...] Read more

poem by Marriott Edgar
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Tough cat Sam is back

Tough cat Sam is making a comeback
he's out running and getting fit
but Jess reckons he's gone crazy
because he's getting on a bit.
A tough young moggy called Spike
has proclaimed that he's the best ever
he's also been bad mouthing Sam
saying that he's thick and not very clever.
So an angry Sam has said yes to a fight
but Spike has said he's going to lose
but Sam has got back into shape
due to his training and cutting out the booze.
The feline boxing world got really excited
and all the tickets quickly sold out
but Spike continued to taunt tough Sam
calling him an old cat and a washed up lout.
Spike was a stocky built Persian
and caught Sam with a fast uppercut
Sam replied with a flurry of jabs
and gave Spike a crafty headbutt.
The fight went on for ten bloody rounds
both cats were out on their feet
Spike tried hard to win the battle
but tough Sam just wouldn't get beat.
Then Sam threw over a mighty right hook
and Spike went out like a light
Sam was the champion once more
which meant he had never lost a fight.
Young Spike was no longer brash and cocky
and accepted that Sam was simply the best
so Sam put his winners cheque in the bank
and went home to Jess for a nice long rest!

poem by Kevin Halls
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The Great Conch Train Robbery

'Twas sunset down in old Key West
The locals all were high.
The tourists snapped their photographs
And munched their Key Lime pie.
And meanwhile down at Sloppy Joe's
The drinks were standin' tall
With Buffett on the jukebox
And Hemingway on the wall.

Then up spoke Sam the Shrimper:
He said, 'I've been a shrimper all my life.
My daddy was a shrimper
And my mom's a shrimper's wife.
And I'm tired of bein' a shrimper
Cuz a shrimper's life's too tame
So I'm gonna ride the Conch Train, boys,
And be like Jesse James.
Gonna be like Jesse James, boy...
Gonna be like Jesse James.
Case you didn't hear me the first three times...
Gonna be like Jesse James.'

Now the Conch Train is a tourist toy
That rolls through Key West Town
Like some weird ride from Disneyland
It drives the tourists round and round
While the engineer on her P.A.
Points out all the sites
'Well, Tennessee did you-know-what
To you-know-who that night.'

'The tourists all have money', said Sam
'Their wives all have rings of gold.
Their mopeds all are pawnable.
Their cameras can be sold.
And think of all the glory, boys,
The money and the fame
To be the first and only man
To rob the Key West Train.'

Now the engineer of the Conch Train
Her name was Betsy Wright.
She drove the Conch Train all day long
And loved Shrimper Sam all night.
And with some sweet persuasion,
She agreed to join the game:
She'd slow it down and flag the lad
And let him ride the train.

The conch train made its turn

[...] Read more

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Shadow Hawk episode 3

[Angela’s House] Tuesday Nov 25 9: 23 am
[Angela and her mom are conversating in living room with Sam lying on couch unconscience]
Angela: He’s been out for about four days now
Mom: Who is he?
Angela: I think his name is Sam
Mom: (Places hands on hips) You think! ?
Angela: Mom I found him in the street, he was hurt.
Mom: (outraged) In the street! Angela you don’t know this boy.
Angela: I had to bring him here he was badly wounded. Plus I’m a CN.
Mom: Angela you know your father would be upset. He’s been gone to a business trip in Tokyo for two weeks and He’ll want to sit on his new leather couch.
Angela: I returned the favor.
Mom: What favor? Did you have se……..
Angela: No, he saved my life!
Mom: What?
Angela: (begins to cry) Three men chased me down the street into an alley they were going to mug me or worse. He came to my aide, and even gave me dinner.
Mom: (Embraces Angela and starts crying) I’m glad your alright.
Angela: He saved me mom.
Mom: Well I couldn’t have chosen a better boy to stay in my house. (smiles warmly)
Angela: Thanks for understanding.
Mom: He looks so cute when he’s sleeping.
Angela: I know mom, he looks like a little teddy bear. (they both giggle)
(door bell rings)
Mom: That’s your dad, let me do the talking.
(Opens door)
Dad: Hey honey I’m home.
Mom: I’ve missed you so much. (they kiss)
Dad: So how’s my little angel doing?
Angela: Fine dad. (smiles)
Dad: Well I guess I’ll go watch tv on my new leather couch.
Mom: You know it’s been two weeks Roger mabey we should go up stairs and “talk”.
Dad: Not right now Sarah, I’m tired. (advances towards living room)
Mom: Roger let me give you a back message up stairs.
Dad: No, Sarah.
Angela: You look tired dad why don’t you take a nap.
Dad: I will once I watch a little……. Who the heck is that on my $2,000 couch! ! !
Mom: Calm down Roger.
Dad: There’s blood on my new couch! ! ! !
Angela: Let me explain.
Dad: Yes Angela explain to me why there is some random boy in my house lying on my couch which is blood stained at that!
Mom: The boy was hurt Roger she had to bring him her.
Dad: And you knew about it Sarah?
Mom: Yes.
Dad: I thought we discussed this already!
Angela: He’s hurt dad.
Dad: Hurt! You want hurt I’ll give you hurt! (grabs baseball bat)
Mom: Don’t Roger put it d…….
Dad: Stay out of this Sarah! (goes to hit Sam)
Angela: (Throws herself on Sam) If you hit him you have to hit me too!
Dad: Move Angela.
Angela: No.

[...] Read more

poem by Jesse Overton
Added by Poetry Lover
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Jack & Diane

A little ditty about Jack and Diane
Two American kids growin' up in the heartland
Jackie's gonna be a football star
Diane's debutante in the backseat of Jackie's car
Suckin' on a chili dog outside the tastee freeze
Diane's sittin' on Jackie's lap
He's got his hand between her knees
Jackie say, "Hey Diane lets run off
behind the shady trees.
Dribble off those Bobby Brooks.
Let me do what I please."
Say ah
Oh yeah, life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin' is gone, say ah
Oh yeah, life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin' is gone, they walk on
Jackie sits back reflects his thoughts for the moment
Scratches his head and does his best James Dean
Well then there and Diane, we oughtta run off to the city
Diane says, Baby, you ain't missin' a thing
And Jackie say a,
"Oh yeah, life goes on,
long after the thrill of livin' is gone.
Oh yeah, they say life goes on,
long after the thrill of livin' is gone."
Gonna let it rock
Let it roll
Let the Bible Belt come
And save my soul
Hold on to 16 as long as you can
Changes come around real soon
Make us women and men
Oh yeah, life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin' is gone
Oh yeah, they say life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin' is gone
A little ditty about Jack and Diane
Two American kids doin' the best they can

song performed by John Mellencamp
Added by Lucian Velea
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Jack n Diane

Little ditty about jack and diane
Two american kids growin up in the heartland
Jackies gonna be a football star
Diane debutante backseat of jackies car
Suckin on chilli dogs outside the tastee freeze
Diane sittin on jackies lap
Hes got his hands between her knees
Jackie say, hey diane lets run off
Behind a shady tree
Dribble off those bobby brooks
Let me do what I please
And jackie say a
Chorus:
Oh yeah life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin is gone
Oh yeah life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin is gone they walk on
Jackie sits back reflects his thoughts for a moment
Scratches his head and does his best james dean
Well you know diane we oughtta run of the city
Diane says, baby you aint miss no-thing
Jackie say a
Chorus:
Oh yeah life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin is gone
Oh yeah life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin is gone
Gonna let it rock
Let it roll
Let the Bible belt come down
And save my soul
Hold on to 16 as lang as you can
Changes comin round real soon
Make us women and men
Little ditty about jack and diane
Two american kids doin the best they can

song performed by John Mellencamp
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!