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You shouldn't presume that all quotes that are in a magazine or a newspaper are accurate.

quote by Andrew Card
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Soccer Rollback

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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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People Who Read People Magazine

(kinky friedman)
Well, Im here to say I got turned away from studio 54
Back to neon lights and lonely nights and saw-dust on the floor
And if she ever loved me, she dont love me anymore,
And if anyone should ask me, heres who Im singing for:
For the people who read people magazine,
For the soap opera lovers, for the home-town bowling team,
For everybody everywhere whos ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read people magazine.
Now if youre too new york for texas, too texas for l.a.
You been chasing trends like rainbow ends but youre always just a song away
And if the white house wouldnt have ya, play in every little honky-tonk and bar
The good lord made the heavens, ah but he never made a star.
No, its the people who read people magazine,
Its the soap opera lovers, its the home-town bowling team,
Its everybody everywhere whos ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read people magazine.
And to tell you the truth this telephone booth gets lonesome in the rain,
But son, Im 21 in nashville and Im 43 in maine.
And when your mama gets home, would you tell her I phoned, itd take a life-time to explain
That Im a country-picker with a bumper-sticker that says: god bless john wayne.
And bless the people who read people magazine,
Bless the soap opera lovers, bless the home-town bowling team,
Bless everybody everywhere whos ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read people magazine.
Bless the people who read people who read people magazine.

song performed by Kinky Friedman
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People Who Read People Magazin

(Kinky Friedman)
Well, I'm here to say I got turned away from Studio 54
Back to neon lights and lonely nights and saw-dust on the floor
And if she ever loved me, she don't love me anymore,
And if anyone should ask me, here's who I'm singing for:
For the people who read People Magazine,
For the soap opera lovers, for the home-town bowling team,
For everybody everywhere who's ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read People Magazine.
Now if you're too New York for Texas, too Texas for L.A.
You been chasing trends like rainbow ends but you're always just a song away
And if the White House wouldn't have ya, play in every little honky-tonk and bar
The good Lord made the Heavens, ah but He never made a star.
No, its the people who read People Magazine,
It's the soap opera lovers, its the home-town bowling team,
It's everybody everywhere who's ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read People Magazine.
And to tell you the truth this telephone booth gets lonesome in the rain,
But son, I'm 21 in Nashville and I'm 43 in Maine.
And when your mama gets home, would you tell her I phoned, it'd take a life-time to explain
That I'm a country-picker with a bumper-sticker that says: ?God Bless John Wayne?.
And bless the people who read People Magazine,
Bless the soap opera lovers, bless the home-town bowling team,
Bless everybody everywhere who's ever lost a dream,
For the people who read people who read People Magazine.
Bless the people who read people who read People Magazine.

song performed by Kinky Friedman
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Magazine Called Sunset

Theress a magazine called sunset
And a tape machine that won't let
Me ever forget this impossible longing for you
Let's take a map across your pillow
And breathe the sky in through your window
I'll stay in the middle
And watch your books cave in
Oh, maybe you're my inspiration
Just lead me to some new sensation
I'll make a little guide
We can follow
Cause there's a magazine called sunset
And a tape machine that won't let
Me ever forget this impossible longing for you
Or I'm a future fall out standing
In the present race I phantom
There's a magazine
There's a magazine
Oh there's a magazine
Oh yeah
Or I'm a future fall out standing
In the present race I phantom
There's a magazine
And a tape machine
That's everything
There's a magazine
And a tape machine
Oh that's everything
Oh yeah

song performed by Wilco
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In A Magazine (album Version) (feat. Queen Pen)

Featuring Queen Pen]
Intro/Chorus: 911
The girl was lookin good
Like a lady should
I remember where I saw her
I saw her in the magazine
Her body's tight, her fingers right
Reminds me of a girl from around the way
Ooooh oooh, I saw her in a magazine
Verse 1: Queen Pen, 911
Uhh, I heard you been lookin for me
Diggin me down, giving me nothin but peach
Ha please, you know where to find me when you need me
Queen P, got you charmed out like them trees
or Lexus, heck a car load full of G's
Impress thee, wit the realism technique
Automatically, pulled you right into my lead
Feel me, as you indulge in your magazine
I couldn't believe my eyes
When I opened up that magazine
It was the finest girl I ever seen
I think I knew her face
I saw her hangin out around the way
Watchin all the players play, whoaaa
Her smile sets off this glow
and when she walks, it's such a sexy flow
I think I want to let her know, that
(She's a bad mamma jamma) Owowohhh
Just as fly as she can be, ohohowoh
Chorus
Verse 2: 911
I, often dream of us
and I can't believe it feels so real
It gives me such a freaky thrill
I like to hold her hand
and tell all the fellas I'm her man
But my dream came to an end
Now that she's on my mind
I just wanna make her mine
We'll be together til the end of time, ooooohhhhhh
(Yes I can make my dreams come true)
Then everything would be so cool
and I would never spend one night without you
Chorus
Bridge: 911
I can't explain, what she's done to me
So fine that it's a crime
Ooooh, I want her in my life
She's one of a kind
That girl, she blows my mind

[...] Read more

song performed by 911
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In A Magazine

[featuring queen pen]
Intro/chorus: 911
The girl was lookin good
Like a lady should
I remember where I saw her
I saw her in the magazine
Her bodys tight, her fingers right
Reminds me of a girl from around the way
Ooooh oooh, I saw her in a magazine
Verse 1: queen pen, 911
Uhh, I heard you been lookin for me
Diggin me down, giving me nothin but peach
Ha please, you know where to find me when you need me
Queen p, got you charmed out like them trees
Or lexus, heck a car load full of gs
Impress thee, wit the realism technique
Automatically, pulled you right into my lead
Feel me, as you indulge in your magazine
I couldnt believe my eyes
When I opened up that magazine
It was the finest girl I ever seen
I think I knew her face
I saw her hangin out around the way
Watchin all the players play, whoaaa
Her smile sets off this glow
And when she walks, its such a sexy flow
I think I want to let her know, that
(shes a bad mamma jamma) owowohhh
Just as fly as she can be, ohohowoh
Chorus
Verse 2: 911
I, often dream of us
And I cant believe it feels so real
It gives me such a freaky thrill
I like to hold her hand
And tell all the fellas Im her man
But my dream came to an end
Now that shes on my mind
I just wanna make her mine
Well be together til the end of time, ooooohhhhhh
(yes I can make my dreams come true)
Then everything would be so cool
And I would never spend one night without you
Chorus
Bridge: 911
I cant explain, what shes done to me
So fine that its a crime
Ooooh, I want her in my life
Shes one of a kind
That girl, she blows my mind

[...] Read more

song performed by 911
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17 Magazine

Talked to my sister late last night.
And she gave me some advice.
And what she said was right.
Talked to my sister late last night.
I said I've got her on my mind.
She said It's good I know my kind.
*Chorus*
And maybe this time,
Maybe she's just the one you need.
Keep taking your time,
You shouldn't go for her full speed.
And maybe this time,
Maybe she's just the one you need.
Cause I know that I've never seen your
Motives more squeaky clean,
And my 17 magazine tells me that youre in love.
Jessica told me I should take a quiz.
10 yes or no questions
To tell me what love really is.
I searched for my answers,
I lied and said I like *Nsync.
They said my middle name's Don Juan,
And I'm sure of myself I think.
And maybe this time,
Maybe she's just the one you need.
Keep taking your time,
You shouldn't go for her full speed.
And maybe this time,
Maybe she's just the one you need.
Cause I know that I've never seen your
Motives more squeaky clean,
And my 17 magazine tells me that youre in love.
And maybe this time,
Maybe she's just the one you need.
Keep taking your time,
You shouldn't go for her full speed.
And maybe this time,
Maybe she's just the one you need.
I say if youre asking me,
Love is sacred love is sweet,
My 17 magazine tells me that youre in love.
My 17 Magazine
My 17 Magazine
My 17 Magazine tells me that youre in love.

song performed by Relient K
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Suspender Love

Music :rudolf schenker
Lyrics:klaus meine
Ah, you turn me on
Ive been the biggest fan of yours
Ah, ah theres something more
So much more baby
Ah, I cant be cool
Its getting stronger every day
Well, yeah, pictures of you
I cut them out, baby
Give me the long faced girl on the magazine
Show me the white rolls royce in the rain
Give me the long faced girl on the magazine
Show me the white rolls royce in the rain
I cant get enough
Too hard a body drives me mad
Oh yeah its like a drug
Suspender love, baby
Give me the long faced girl on the magazine
Show me the white rolls royce in the rain
Give me the long faced girl on the magazine
Show me the white rolls royce in the rain
Ah, ah, oh yeah
Ah, ha, ah, ha, ha
Oh baby yeah
Give me the long faced girl on the magazine
Show me the white rolls royce in the rain
Give me the long faced girl on the magazine
Show me the white rolls royce in the rain

song performed by Scorpions
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New Magazine Launch

For Immediate Release
Maud Rivers, IRM Magazine

Launch of New Magazine

IRM will be no longer as of April 1 2009. But do not be sad; for the birth of “Main Street Mag” begins!

Toronto (ON) - Estimated web version launch date of the new magazine “Main Street” is April 2009- followed by a published version in the summer of 2009. This hot new magazine with ‘attitude’ is focused on the ladies of today who want more!

“Main Street” will have sexy hot pictures of men—that’s right ladies, from Maxim to the swimsuit issue of Sports Illustrated, men have had their fix of sexy ladies for years, now it is our turn! Of course we are not one dimensional, (kidding guys) so you can find a food section, letting us know about the latest chefs, restaurants, and reviews. Also you will find reviews on books, movies, music.

Articles pertaining to relationships, art, women in business and health and wellness. A monthly fun article called “Alfa Male” the voice of a man in this ‘women’s world.’ A Ladies Magazine will not be complete with out shoes, right? Fashion trends that ladies will wear, want and need will be included. Lifestyles including cigars, wine and cars. This and so much more will give the ladies what they have been craving.

The brain child behind “Main Street? ” No other than celebrity author, writer, and former radio host “Tilly Rivers.”

Tilly’s focus as Sr. Editor and owner will be coordinating the monthly magazine, as well as writing the monthly feature article.

I will be staying on as a consultant during the first few months of transition, only too enjoy my retirement on a beach of choice.

Have a blast chillin@mainstreet! !

poem by Tilly Rivers
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Life In Newspaper

Some life stop their life on newspaper.
some life loss their life on newspaper.
loss their life like a photograph.
Loss their life in a column of newspaper.
Loss their life in the lightening photo of star.
Speech of false leader.
Profile of high profile cader.
Photo of dustbin child.
Fulfil the newspaper.
Now life,
Now love,
Addvertisement of peace,
or humanity.
Everything u found here.
Now life loss his life in newspaper.

poem by Imtiaz Emon
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Visits to St Elizabeths

This is the house of Bedlam.

This is the man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.

This is the time
of the tragic man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.

This is a wristwatch
telling the time
of the talkative man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.

This is a sailor
wearing the watch
that tells the time
of the honored man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.

This is the roadstead all of board
reached by the sailor
wearing the watch
that tells the time
of the old, brave man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.

These are the years and the walls of the ward,
the winds and clouds of the sea of board
sailed by the sailor
wearing the watch
that tells the time
of the cranky man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.

This is a Jew in a newspaper hat
that dances weeping down the ward
over the creaking sea of board
beyond the sailor
winding his watch
that tells the time
of the cruel man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.

This is a world of books gone flat.
This is a Jew in a newspaper hat
that dances weeping down the ward
over the creaking sea of board
of the batty sailor
that winds his watch

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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A newspaper is a collection of half-injustices

A newspaper is a collection of half-injustices
Which, bawled by boys from mile to mile,
Spreads its curious opinion
To a million merciful and sneering men,
While families cuddle the joys of the fireside
When spurred by tale of dire lone agony.

A newspaper is a court
Where every one is kindly and unfairly tried
By a squalor of honest men.

A newspaper is a market
Where wisdom sells its freedom
And melons are crowned by the crowd.

A newspaper is a game
Where his error scores the player victory
While another's skill wins death.

A newspaper is a symbol;
It is feckless life's chronicle,
A collection of loud tales
Concentrating eternal stupidities,
That in remote ages lived unhaltered,
Roaming through a fenceless world.

poem by Stephen Crane
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Newspaper Wife

Sitting here in this dirty bar
Watching the trash go by
Shes selling cigarettes and lollipops
Shes got a sparkle in her black eye
She says maybe my time will come
Maybe my time will come
He said hed sweep her off her feet
Defying all of gravity
Well shed move any bright city
To fill this gaping cavity she says
Im a slave in this empty life
Diggin my grave Im his newspaper wife
Well he must have a very small broom
As she sits in this very large room
Maybe its just a piece of straw
She says why am I so in awe
Chorus
Im a slave to this empty life
Diggin my grave Im his newspaper wife
Im ashamed of this meaningless life
Diggin my grave Im his newspaper wife
She sits across from him
Drinking her coffee
His face is buried in other peoples lives she says
i wonder if hes gonna read forever
Im his newspaper wife
Repeat chorus

song performed by Vonda Shepard
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O, What is Lost?

Yet again, the stock market crumbles and falls,
Ruining the economy for us all.
A day without a newspaper—
O, what is lost?

Gas prices rise as embargoes are insinuated.
War seems imminent. Tension is elevated.
A day without a newspaper—
O, what is lost?

Epidemics, viral infections are on the verge of spreading.
It's a shame our scientists don't know anything.
A day without a newspaper—
O, what is lost?

Front page: Can you believe it? Could it be true?
Snooki is pregnant. When is she due?
A day without a newspaper—
O, what is lost?

poem by Tim Stensloff
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Collage

Rain is falling and I hear more than I care to- while I am
Seated upon the floor, tearing paper to pieces-
Randomly pasting beside cut outs onto cardboard,
Zebras and kangaroos are hiding
Behind a group of ballerinas while
Two Kenyan woman are quantum jumping?
Irish church towers casting shadows
Upon a garden of daffodils and
Eyes are everywhere, staring from the paper
Into my own eyes- trying to understand me-
Rain is falling upon the rooftop and I hear voices singing death dirges,
Tragic tunes from which there are no escaping.
Magazine cutouts and torn newspaper pieces I glue randomly onto cardboard-
My thoughts are running wild as a caged raccoon.
Through my eyes I see a world out there beyond comprehension
As rain splashes rhythmically upon the sidewalk outside,
Voices inside my mind threaten ill fate, while
The light that once shone upon sallow colored walls has just burnt out.
All I can see now is that piece of cardboard with
Cut out and torn pictures and writing pasted in total disarray-
I paint bright colors over them, trying to demolish all of the pain they represent-
But no amount of paint would obliterate the anger that is ripping at my gut.
I was born with a face that is clear of expression and a body that has been well cared for-
But if one were to open the door to my mind they would find much anger and despair-
Eyes are all about me looking into mine and I cannot escape-
The rain is falling harder now and I keep tearing paper-
Shadows are cast upon yellowed walls and I keep painting torn paper and images.
My thoughts are screaming to be released-
More than those of zebras and kangaroos hiding behind ballerinas dancing-
Or of Kenyan women quantum jumping- or even more than
The clashing pieces of paper and magazine pictures could ever express-
I am falling, falling and falling into a trap- and
There is no outlet for me from which to escape from this delusional world
As so many have called it and I just continue painting bright colors onto cardboard and
Pasting photographs and torn newspaper hoping that one morning
When I awaken and open my eyes there will be
Beautiful pictures upon freshly painted walls-
Pictures that have a theme and a purpose: Then the rain will have stopped falling and
My eyes shall be opened to a world I can understand, the door to my mind
Shall opened as well, so my thoughts can be released to a world that
With all hope can finally understand me-

poem by Claudia Krizay
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Drowning Man

(duran duran)
Hes sinking faster than a drowning man
Hell grab a hold of anyone he can
Gun in his poket and a heart of ham
Uncle sam...
Hes dying faster than a rabid dog
Infect us all now hes losing blood
Nose for trouble and a soul of rock
Smokeys man...
Dont drag me down
I dont wanna drown
Your going down
(hay) na na na na na na na na
Theres not much flesh
Just skin and bone
Cheeks sunk deep
Eyes popping wide
Dont put out a hand to help him
This drowning man will bite it right off
Right off , right off , right off..
(chorus)
Hes selling faster than a magazine
Infect us all with his tv screen
Hes selling faster than a magazine
Infect us all with his tv screen
Hes selling faster than a magazine
Infect us all with his tv screen
Hes selling faster than a magazine
Infect us all with his tv screen
(chorus) (chorus)

song performed by Duran Duran
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Hypnotixed

Two pictures laid on an amp
I'm broken like strings on guitars again
I saw your car parked next to a bridge
I think it was yours, I don't know, I can't tell
I saw your picture in a magazine
I decided to talk to you, what the hell?
Twin pictures in a magazine
There's two of you, I'm a lone sad rebel
Sad rebel
Your eyes
Your eyes
Your eyes
Hypnotize
Don't tell me to stay again
I believe in the things I can't see and I'm right
Nobody's gonna shove me down
You can turn me away, but I'm turned on all night
I saw your picture in a magazine
I decided to talk to you, what the hell?
What the hell?
Twin pictures in a magazine
There's two of you, I'm a lone sad rebel
Sad rebel
Your eyes
Your eyes
Your eyes
Hypnotize
Hypnotize
Hypnotize
Hypnotize

song performed by Ryan Adams
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Everlasting Now

I knew this dude/He was very cool
He used 2 rule/Until he went 2 school
Not a normal school/That breeds a fool
But the ones that teaches/Men aren't fit to rule
That's when he took his pearly crown/He raised it up and spun it 'round
And tossed in2 the deep blue underground
No longer lead by the ways of men/He looked 4 the kingdom deep within
That's when the drums in his head began 2 pound
Don't let nobody bring u down
Accurate knowledge of Christ and the Father
Will bring the Everlasting Now/Join the party, make a sound
Share the truth, preach the good news
Don't let nobody bring u down/The Everlasting Now
Now turn the page, at an early age
This brutha on stage, he was all the rage
He taught an integrated world 2 sing
The color u are don't mean a thing
Everybody's a star all the everyday people sang
He changed the funk, put it in a bag
Then he changed the colors of the flag
But u can't teach a dog new tricks if his tail don't wag
Don't know matter how much money u made
All the cars u got and all the women u laid
Mess with the flag and 2 them u're still a spade
Don't let nobody bring u down
Accurate knowledge of Christ and the Father
Will bring the Everlasting Now
Join the party, make a sound
Share the truth, preach the good news
Don't let nobody bring u down
The Everlasting Now
See this girl in her make-believe world/Plastic boobs and clip-on curls
'Round the pole see her big butt twirl/There r the dreams that do unfurl
Never everlasting
Don't let anybody bring u down/The Everlasting Now
Watch that girl in her make-believe world
Plastic boobs and clip-on curls
'Round the pole see her big butt twirl
Electric beaches skin do bake
Vanilla fudge and wedding cake
If u should die b4 u wake
U got any last requests 2 make?
The Everlasting Now/The Everlasting Now/The Everlasting Now
Johnny, B. Well and bring the beat
From this day forward 'til times indefinite, those who love Christ r the
ones who benefit. All the players' ice melted in2 one platinum chain and in
a downward spiral it dropped down the chain.
"U know, this is funky but I wish he'd play like he used 2, old
scragglyhead."
Don't let nobody bring u down

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
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An Alliterative Amorous Answer

Alliterative Love Letter

Adored and angelic Amelia. Accept an ardent and artless amourist’s affections, alleviate an anguished admirer’s alarms, and answer an amorous applicant’s avowed ardour. Ah, Amelia! all appears an awful aspect! Ambition, avarice and arrogance, alas are attractive allurements, and abase an ardent attachement. Appease an aching and affectionate adorer’s alarms, and anon acknowledge affianced Albert’s alliance as agreeable and acceptable.

Anxiously awaiting an affectionate and affirmative answer, accept an ardent admirer’s aching adieu. Always angelic and admirable Amelia’s admiring and affectionate amourist, Albert
Wit and Wisdom 1826

An Alliterative Answer

Artless Amelia Acme’s answer adamantly admonishing artful Albert Acne’s announced amorous ambitions, and assertive advances, actively advocates appropriate alternatives. Also, attesting abhorrent Albert’s attempted abduction, Amelia asks an adequate aureate award. Advance “ amical ” arrangements are altogether abjured.

Adieu Albert!

Abused Amelia, an adorable angel, aghast and askance, acknowledges agile apostate Albert’s apparently avuncular, albeit astonishingly audacious application, and, as alleged affiancement alliances and anticipations are absent, appends an acceptable, accurate answer.

Aggressively accosted, Amelia acts advisedly, asking an acceptably authentic apology affirming all Albert’s avowed affiancement allegations as archetypal authoritarian autocratic attempts at annulling Amelia’s autonomy. Also, Albert’s absolutely alarmingly acquisitive ambitions afford anguish, anxiety, and, afterall, acute anger. All are anathema, as Albert, an adder, assumed angelic approbation after an abject attempt at abrogating and appropriating all Amelia’s assets.

Agamous Albert’s age, adiposity, and abnormally abrasive accents also argued against amorous agglutination. Agamy appeared advisable as Amelia always aspired at attaining an absolute amour, assiduously avoiding ambiguity. Ardent admiration activated Albert’s appetite as Amelia’s allure and accomplishments attracted all-round applause.

Amelia and Albert are at an apogee. Alliance anticipations are antilogical as Amelia’s aplomb and articulateness, and Albert ’s anthropomorphic antics are as antipodes apart as Aphrodite and an anthropoid ape. Acataleptic Albert, Amelia’s antithesis, acting almost as an aggressive animal, abused Amelia’s adolescent acquaintance, Anabelle, an alluring afro actress, - actually auditionning as an aria alto, - adventuring affront abruptly abbreviated.

Albert’s apologists are accomplices aiding and abetting an attack (after anticipating advantages agreed aforehand) .... At Ashcloth Abbey altar agnostic Albert asked Assyriac Abyssinian Archdeacon Ahasuerus and Arabian acolyte Abdul abn Abdulaziz abn Abdullah Abu an aboveboard absolution although Abbott Abraham Allsaints’ anterior abjuration altered all accomodating actions.

Apprehending arrogant acquiline Albert’s arbitrary approach, Amelia appositely acted appropriately, adjusting apparel. Applause and approbation are apropos.

Albert abusively alledges aristocratic alabaster Amelia’s assent - an assumption as absurd as an ass astride an advocate assiduously assembling an ascorbic acid apparatus!

Abstemious Amelia’s abilities attract acclaim - above all admirable administrative aptitudes, artistic aims, analytical assurance, amiability and amenability. Altruistic Amelia amalgamating agreeableness and authority, always assists aliens.

Alcoholic Albert’s abominations abound, as aforementioned as all adults agree, admonishing an aggressive ambiance........Albert apes affability!

Abusive adulation appalls, accelerates aversion and attracts adverse acknowledgements alienating affirmative adhesions. Allegorical accolades, artificially addressed, accumulate absurdities. although amiable acolytes are acceptable additions. Argot argues against acceptance as avid adventurers assume affected accents -, acquiring added artificial accomplishments.

Addressing amoral Albert, and apprehending amorphous arrangements, Amelia advises acrimonious Albert’s accepting any alternative Abigail, Alice and Anabella, as affianced amourette. Auburns are also admired as are armed assegaie’d ashanti, andalousian, algonquin, anabaptist and amerindian amours:

Abigail, Ada, Adrienne, Adriana, Adelaide, Agatha, Aglaë, Alice, Aliette, await Albert,
Aline, Alison, Amy Amanda, Amandine Andrea, Angela, Angelica, Ann, anticipate Albert
Anna, Annabelle, Anne, Annette, Angelina, Annick, Annie, Andrée, Anthea, alleviate Albert
April, Ariane, Ariane, Arlette, Armande, Armelle, Ashley, Astarte, Ava, appreciate Albert
.....And Albert annoys Amelia! - aggravating!

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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The first duty of a newspaper is to be accurate. If it be accurate, it follows that it is fair.

quote by Herbert Bayard Swope
Added by Lucian Velea
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