Réplique du film C'est arrivé près de chez vous

Elles sont comment les briques ? c'est des briques rouges. Et le rouge c'est quoi, c'est la couleur du sang, des indiens, du vin ! Et qui dit vin, dit pot de vin !

Personnage(s): Ben


Film: C'est arrivé près de chez vous

Noter cette réplique

0 étoile(s) - 0 vote(s).
Vous devez être connecté pour noter une citation
Poster sur Facebook Tweeter Pin
Erreur! Désolé, merci de réessayer..
Bravo! La réplique vient d'être postée sur votre mur.
Poster sur Facebook Tweeter Pin
Erreur! Désolé, merci de réessayer..
Bravo! La réplique vient d'être postée sur votre mur.


Voir une autre réplique C'est arrivé près de chez vous



_ Trois façades mari...?
_ Marinées !
_ Maritimes !

LOL (laughing out loud) ®

Le passé est une chose difficile, parfois il est gravé dans la pierre et d'autre fois, il est renvoyé à des souvenirs flous. Mais si tu te mêles trop longtemps de choses profondes et sombres. Qui sait quels monstres tu vas réveiller ?

Revenge

Tu veux voir ce que je t'ai apporté ? C'est un geai moqueur, tant que tu le gardes sur toi, rien de mal ne pourra t'arriver, je te le promets !

Hunger Games

Why shouldn‘t I work for the N.S.A.? That‘s a tough one, but I‘ll take a shot... Say I'm working at N.S.A. Somebody puts a code on my desk, something nobody else can break. So I take a shot at it and maybe I break it. And I'm real happy with myself, 'cause I did my job well. But maybe that code was the location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East. Once they have that location, they bomb the village where the rebels were hiding and fifteen hundred people I never had a problem with get killed. Now the politicians are sayin' “send in the Marines to secure the area” 'cause they don't give a shit. It won't be their kid over there, gettin' shot. Just like it wasn't them when their number got called, 'cause they were pullin' a tour in the National Guard. It'll be some guy from Southie takin' shrapnel in the ass. And he comes home to find that the plant he used to work at got exported to the country he just got back from. And the guy who put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job, 'cause he'll work for fifteen cents a day and no bathroom breaks. Meanwhile my buddy from Southie realizes the only reason he was over there was so we could install a government that would sell us oil at a good price. And of course the oil companies used the skirmish to scare up oil prices so they could turn a quick buck. A cute, little ancillary benefit for them but it ain't helping my buddy at two-fifty a gallon. And naturally they're takin' their sweet time bringin' the oil back and maybe even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes to drink seven and sevens and play slalom with the icebergs and it ain't too long 'til he hits one, spills the oil, and kills all the sea-life in the North Atlantic. So my buddy's out of work and he can't afford to drive so he's got to walk to the job interviews which sucks 'cause the shrapnel in his ass is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids. And meanwhile he's starvin' 'cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat the only blue-plate special they're servin' is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State.
So what'd I think? I'm holdin' out for somethin' better. I figure I'll eliminate the middle man. Why not just shoot my buddy, take his job and give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? Christ, I could be elected President.

Will Hunting

_ Bella s'il te plaît, cesse de te déshabiller !
_ Tu préfère t'en charger ?

Twilight Chapitre 3 : hésitation