Bare fordi

Kate: What the hell are you doing?
Sawyer: It's my knee. You practically busted my damn knee.
Kate: You stalking me, now?
Sawyer: Stalking you? I was protecting you.
Kate: From what? Southern perverts?

Lost går ikke denne uken. Det er påske. Teit.

Sol

<3

Your name is not Sawyer, is it?

SAWYER: Shut up. You want to know what kind of human being I am? [He hands her his letter] Read it. Read it. Out loud.
KATE: Dear Mr. Sawyer, you don't know who I am but I know who you are and I know what you done. You had sex with my mother and then you stole my dad's money all away. So he got angry and he killed my mother and then he killed himself, too.
SAWYER: Don't stop now. You're just getting to the good part.
KATE: All I know is your name. But one of these days I'm going to find you and I'm going to give you this letter so you'll remember what you done to me. You killed my parents Mr. Sawyer.
SAWYER: Now about that kiss... I didn't think so.

KATE: [She holds up Sawyer's letter] I read it again, and then again, because I've been trying to figure out why you beat up Boone instead of just telling him you didn't have his sister's medication. Why you pretended to have it anyway. The thing that I keep coming back around to is that you want to be hated. Then I looked at the envelope -- America's bicentennial, Knoxville, TN. You were just a kid, 8 maybe 9 years old.
SAWYER: Kate.
KATE: This letter wasn't written to you. You wrote this letter. Your name's not Sawyer, is it?
SAWYER: It was his name. He was a confidence man. Romanced my momma to get to the money, wiped them out clean, left a mess behind. So I wrote that letter. I wrote it knowing one day I'd find him. But that ain't the sad part. When I was 19, I needed 6 grand to pay these guys off I was in trouble with. So I found a pretty lady with a dumb husband who had some money. And I got them to give it to me. How's that for a tragedy? I became the man I was hunting. Became Sawyer. Don't you feel sorry for me. [He grabs the letter from her]. Get the hell out. Get out!

Tatt herfra

Overheard

Girl #1: I saw the most crack-whorish looking girl today in Starbucks.
Girl #2: Now, was she crack-whorish or heroine chic? Because there is a difference.
Girl #1: No. She was definitely a crack whore. I mean. Imagine Courtney Love...now imagine Courtney Love run over by a train.

Latina chick to two friends: Fucking bitch whore keeps calling me!
Friend #1: Don't answa! Don't answa!
Friend #2: She's a bitch.
Latina chick: Don't call my motha a bitch, you twat.

Drunk white man, pointing to random black guy: Hey, look: it's Puff Daddy!
Embarrassed daughter: Dad, that is not P. Diddy.
Drunk white man: Hey, Puff! Can I get a record deal? Hook a brother up!

Drunk white woman: Congratulations on making history!
Sober black man: Um...what?
Drunk white woman: Yeah! I voted for Obama too!

Girl 1: I hate him! He’s always smoking and getting high and bringing girls home and shit.
Girl 2: Well, older brothers are like that.
Girl 1: No, no, he’s 13.

Overheard in New York

Dude #1: I had a dream that we got to hang out backstage with Metallica after the concert on Saturday.
Dude #2: That would be fucking awesome.
Dude #1: We would totally get laid.
Dude #2: By Metallica?
Dude #1: I'd do it.

!

While my guitar gently weeps

Jeg kunne ønske jeg kunne spille gitar.