Non-white actors who try to pass for white

Helen Hunt

Who try to pass or can pass?

Wentworth Miller Rashida Jones Jennifer Beals

R2, I should have written who "can" pass for white.

You could throw in Maya Rudolph and of course, how could I forget, Carol Channing.

What is Franco?

Colton Haynes.

Kurt Cobain.

R5, Franco is of Portuguese descent, I believe.

Cameron Diaz

Cher

gabourey sidibe

Isn't Portuguese white?

Everyone listed thus far IS white except rudolph and the r4 bunch.

r2*

Mark Paul Gosselaar

Keaunu Reeves

Ron Schneider

Kristen Kreuk

Dean Cain

Vanessa Hudgens

Alia Shawkat

David Strathairn

Adrienne Barbeau

Brad Pitt.

Miss Julie

R14, Brad Pitt? Why him? He's white.

Chris Rock

James Earl Jones

Stop. Seriously.

Brad Pitt is yellow. It's been established.

Taylor Lautner

"Brad Pitt is yellow."

Huh? What does that mean?

Ho-Hum, another disguised race baiting thread. How trite.

James Franco is white.

Portuguese people are white.

OP is racist and this thread is flamebait.

Brad Pitt has yellow skin. IT'S BEEN ESTABLISHED.

[quote]I should have written who "can" pass for white.

Instead you wrote, what you wrote.

Where did you learn to talk like this...round your family table?

"Brad Pitt has yellow skin. IT'S BEEN ESTABLISHED."

By whom? That doesn't even make sense.

RACIST! POLLUTERS! BENGHAZI!

Michelle Jackson

r26: do keep up

Oh here we go again. Hispanic is an ethnic group - with many subsets such as Mexican, Puerto Rican, Spanish, Filipino - based on a common language. It is not a race.

There are white (Caucasian) Hispanics, black Hispanics, Asian Hispanics, Native American Hispanics, etc etc. Cameron Diaz is a white, half Hispanic woman.

As someone of Portuguese lineage, James Franco is white and non Hispanic.

Next thing, OP is gonna say John and Jackie Kennedy (Irish and French Catholics) are not white.

Small minds do tend to think that only American and British people are white.

lol, love ya r30

This thread is stupid and racist.

Suzanna York

Jeanne Crain

Cathy Moriarty

John Cusack

Chelsea Handler

Lena Horne,

You forgot ze Germans! Zey are white!

Also, "British" includes the Welsh, and they seem ... Swarthy.

/wink

You guys do realize that race is basically a fallacy, right?

Beals, Miller and Jones are all biracial but pass as white.

I don't understand this thread.

Jennifer and Meg Tilly are half Chinese.

Drew Barrymore

Matt Bomer

Meryl Streep

Jon Hamm

Crystal Methenanny

Bethenney Frankel

Suzie Ormond

Gary Cooper

Marjorie Main

Joey Lawrence

Mindy Cohn

Dr. Maya Angelou

Daniel Day Lewis

Sally Kellerman

David Alan Grier

Candy Clark

Chris Meloni

Kurt Cobain

Jena Malone

Sophia Loren

Lauren Ambrose

Nicholas Hoult

Julianne Moore

Lucille Ball

Pauly Shore

Marion Davis

Tupac Shakur

Merle Oberon

Spare us the first year anthropology/sociology/women & gender studies student bullshit, R35. Just because race may be a "social construct" (eek) doesn't mean it's not real.

Rebecca Hall is an octoroon.

oooww, this is gonna get good!

A lot of these are on point but R39 is a straight up troll. Most of those people are white as snow.

Susan Anspach

Audie Murphy

Viola Davis

Donald Sutherland

Mary Hart

S'Epatha Merkerson

Jenny Craig

Don Johnson

Faith Hill

Jack Lemmon

Shia La Beouf

Catherine Deneuve

Bjork

[all posts by racist flame-bait shit-stain removed.]

Jack Black

Julie Brown

Chyna Phillips

Jackson Browne

Miss Taiwan

Candy Spice

The future Mrs Aaron Rodgers: Ms Olivia Munn.

Homegirl is half Chinese/Vietnamese, on her mother's side.

Liz Phair

Katrina Lemay Doan

Blondie

Ru Paul

Supposed British IT Girl Alexa Chung. Chinese on her father's

Almost all these half-Asians try to pass as 'white', while most of the biracials who have black heritage almost inevitably identify as 'black'. Deduce your own conclusions re: self-pride versus self-hate.

*on her father's side.

Mark Paul Gosselaar is Dutch. Nicholas Hoult is British. Many of these names are wrong.

"Brad Pitt has yellow skin. IT'S BEEN ESTABLISHED."

Does this look yellow (see pic)? Brad Pitt's white skin is not anywhere near the color of the yellow glove in this pic.

Jimmy Carter

Nicholas Hoult

Tobey Maguire

Matt DaMon

Betty White

Elton John

Elmore Leonard

Paul Robeson

Kelly Preston

Jackson Pollock

Hattie McDaniel

Mark Paul Gosselaar

Lana Cantrell

Slim Hawks

Michelle Williams

Clive Davis

Miley Cyrus

Cicely Tyson

Stupid thread. There are only three races: african asian and caucasian. There are brown-black Asians (some Indians, anyone from the south pacific), and darker white people (Semites, some Indians).

Portuguese are some of the whitest white people---even the ones who African/Semitic lineage are pretty white.

R13 They're all mixed race. All part white/European.

R51 He is of Dutch and Indonesian(I think Javanese) descent.

Frida Pinto

Frida Kahlo

Frida Lyngstad

58 replies and no mention of Jessica Alba? Wow.

Frida Kahlo is of European(white), indigenous Mexican and Middle Eastern(Jewish) descent.

R56 There are:

Europeans(White)

Americans(North and South)

West Asian+North Africans

Sub-Saharan Africans(Black)

South Asians(Indian)

Northeast Asians(the slanted eyed ones)

Malayans(southeast Asians)

and then you have the indigenous southeast Asians, Australians and Micronesians+Melanesians.

Robert Pattinson

Anderson Cooper

Naomi Campbell

Nancy Kwan

L'Wren Scott

Lola Falana

Jimmy McNichol

Tori Spelling

Lana Turner

Kylie Minogue

Angela Davis

How come no one mentioned Carol Channing...

All of them can.

O.J. Simpson

I think OP is implying Franco is Latino because of his Portuguese heritage?

Brazilians wouldn't be called Hispanics because they don't come from a country that primarily speaks Spanish. However, they would be called Latinos because they speak Portuguese. This is why Nelly Furtado calls herself Latina because her primary language is Portuguese. I think her family is from Portugal.

OP is race baiting!

obviously the right title should be

Non-caucasian actors who can pass for caucasians

a lot of names listed here are indeed white, just not caucasian white.

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Scottie Thompson

Mary Landrieu

Mitch Landrieu

Bobby Jindal

Rae-Dawn Chong

Audra McDonald

Vin Diesel

Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson

OJ Simpson (until he got in trouble)

Michael Jackson (until he got in trouble)

Vanessa Williams (until she got in trouble)

Martin Gore

If webmaster continues to encourage racist threads by doing nothing about them at all, you'll need a dose of spam! And you'll like it!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Wouldn't it be funny if James reads this and is like "What!?" "You mean I am a mo, and on top of it I'm not consider white??!"

His whole world would collapse.

LOL Keep up the good work Spamy!

[quote]Wouldn't it be funny if James reads this and is like "What!?" "You mean I am a mo, and on top of it I'm not consider white??!"

[Quote]His whole world would collapse.

[Quote]by: but then again he is. lolt

Au contraire. I think Franco would squeal his little hipster heart out in girlish delight, as being 'non-white' would up his street cred considerably (at least in his own mind).

White stars who can pass for black: Beyonce Barak Obama Brian Gumbel Alicia Keys Shemar Moore Harry Belafonte

Honorable Mention: Oprah Winfrey

If webmaster continues to encourage racist threads by doing nothing about them at all, you'll need a dose of spam! And you'll like it!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Barnabas Collins Gale Sondergaard SK Cuddles Sakall Spongebob Squarepants Mothra

Reese Witherspoon - passing as white for 25 years

Philip Seymour Hoffman - RIP, but a black man trapped in the perception that he's just extremely tanned white man.

Gary Busey - when you see him, quite African American, but on film he registers 'white' for some reason

Chris Hemsworth - somehow achieved the perception that he's Anglo, but absolutely aboriginal

On second thought you are right R78.

Bi/Gay + Latino = His HUGE EGO would not be able to handle so much attention!

He may actually be interesting for the first time!

If webmaster continues to encourage racist threads by doing nothing about them at all, you'll need a dose of spam! And you'll like it!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Martin Luther

Martin Luther King Jr.

Luther Vandross

Ludicrous

Boris Yeltsin

Sissy Spacek

Neil Patrick Harris

Gene Tierney

Gene Pitney

Roy Orbison

Matt Bomer

Kitty Carlisle

Minnie Pearl

Toshiro Mifune

Sidney Poitier

Gloria Grahame

Jesse Metcalfe

Angela Landsbury

Charlie White

Betty White

Amy Tan

Louis C.K.

Dick York

Missy Elliott

Jean Paul Belmondo

If webmaster continues to encourage racist threads by doing nothing about them at all, you'll need a dose of spam! And you'll like it!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Has there been a shortage of prescription meds this week. Im quite serious, the mentally ill have been rampant on DL in higher numbers than usual.

[quote] Im quite serious, the mentally ill have been rampant on DL in higher numbers than usual.

Hmmm. . . . . that's certainly debatable.

R58 because no one cares about her.

R65 she was mentioned in R4.

If webmaster continues to encourage racist threads by doing nothing about them at all, you'll need a dose of spam! And you'll like it!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

James is half Jewish. Which half of him is Jewish, James has not personally unveiled before me.

EVERYONE is mixed race. We all have common ancestry. The differences associated with "race" are superficial and were prompted by the environment and geography that our ancestors relocated to 25,000 years ago.

Can we please stop with this nonsense about "race" and resume our discussions of homo-sex, the male form, aging or dead actresses, debauchery and materialism.

I thought this was DL, not Stormfront

Tuesday Weld

Efram Zimbalist Jr.

Mayim Bialik

Denzel Washington

Diesel Washington

Jon Benet Ramsey

Katherine Hepburn

Mario Lopez

Edgar Winter

Donna Summer

Spring Byington

Fall Out Boys

Mister Ed

Miss Universe

Homer Simpson

Susan St. James

Kendall Jenner

Nicholas Hoult

Gillian Anderson

Spike Lee

Rudolph Nureyev

Hugh Jackman

Roseanne Barr

Candice Bergen

Zendaya Coleman

Montgomery Clift

Naomi Watts

Sheryl Lee Ralph

James Franco

James Arness

James Brown

Zsa Zsa Gabor

Lili Taylor

Mimi Rogers

Roger Moore

Dev Patel

Christie Brinkley

[all posts by tedious, racist idiot removed.]

Hate to break it to you, but there was time, most of the time, in this country when italians and hispanics were not considered "white". Hell, Irish Catholics barely counted. This was back in the WASP heyday. Prejudice was not the experienced solely by American blacks.

[all posts by tedious, racist idiot removed.]

Oprah Winfrey. Gurl, black folk don't talk like that.

Anything south of Naples is Africa.

wow. did a white fundamentalist start this thread?

No, Python spammer did. Check his IP. Same guy. Ultimate troll, baits and then spams in faux outrage, or should I say, frau outrage.

race baiters like this should be banned from ever posting on this site.

We all come from the same lineage...Adam and Steve.

[all posts by tedious troll removed.]

[quote]Supposed British IT Girl Alexa Chung. Chinese on her father's Almost all these half-Asians try to pass as 'white',

This is one of my favorite retarded posts in this thread. Yes, I am sure someone who goes by the name Alexa CHUNG is trying really hard to hide her Asian heritage.

[quote]No, Python spammer did. Check his IP.

You can't see anyone's IP address, nor can the rest of us. It would be pretty amusing if Python spammer did start this thread, but trolldar does not indicate that to be the case.

errol flynn bill murray and hattie mcdaniel just off the top of my head

Matt Bomer

Linda Evangelista

Alexandra Ambrosio

Kenny Rogers

Angela Merkel

Mickey Rooney

Rickie Lake

Nicholas Hoult

Erik Estrada

Chris Rock

Dakota Fanning

Diana Ross

Pinky Lee

Brenda Lee

Lee Grant

Grant Goodeve

Ruby Dee

Billy Corgan

Conan O'Brien

Levar Burton

Jean Simmons

Joe Simmons

Paul Simon

Tina Chow

Mr. Chow

Mr. Clean

Miss Saigon

Jerry Seinfeld

Kris Kataan

Lady Astor

Lady Day

Baby Snooks

John Paul Gosselaar

Curt Cobain

Suzie Ormon

Vladimir Putin

Idi Amin

Edye Gorme

Paul Newman

Jane Fonda

Angela Bassett

Nina Dobrev

Kevin Hart

Gary Coleman

Loretta Young

Nicole Richie

Nicole "Snooki"

Lucy Liu

If francos not white i'll cut my right testicle off.

Oh Franco is white...just not white-white...

Robert Downey Jr. for sure.

R62, American Indians and Malayans are all under the "Asian" race. East Indian ("south Asia") are considered White. The only group you named that doesn't fit easily into a racial group are the indigenous Australians (the Aborigines). They may, in fact, have Neanderthal lineage.

Not exactly an actor, but Rob Kardashian.

As illustrated at R117, this construct makes no sense. It needs to be retired, already.

Cillian Murphy

Colin Farrell

Liam Neeson

Gabriel Byrne

LUPITA NYONG'O!!!

Stupid answer for a question even more stupid. Period.

Until our beloved webmaster goes after racist threads with the same violence he does pro-Z I O N I S T threads and Tig Notaro takedowns, you'll have your spam and like it, too!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Maria von Trapp.

Can someone explain this waitress/viking spam dialogue that someone keeps posting in ever thread? I don't get the joke.

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

If you're from southern Italy you're not white.

It's not a joke. The spamming waitress is tired of the racist posts and race baiting threads permitted on DL.

I fully support the SPAM!

The Spammer is a member from Free Republic who wants to sabotage DL.

DL is full of racist hate speech. As someone relatively new here, I am amazed that it is tolerated.

Citizen Kane

By

Herman J. Mankiewicz

&

Orson Welles

PROLOGUE

FADE IN:

EXT. XANADU - FAINT DAWN - 1940 (MINIATURE)

Window, very small in the distance, illuminated.

All around this is an almost totally black screen. Now, as the camera moves slowly towards the window which is almost a postage stamp in the frame, other forms appear; barbed wire, cyclone fencing, and now, looming up against an early morning sky, enormous iron grille work. Camera travels up what is now shown to be a gateway of gigantic proportions and holds on the top of it - a huge initial "K" showing darker and darker against the dawn sky. Through this and beyond we see the fairy-tale mountaintop of Xanadu, the great castle a sillhouette as its summit, the little window a distant accent in the darkness.

DISSOLVE:

A SERIES OF SET -UPS, EACH CLOSER TO THE GREAT WINDOW, ALL TELLING SOMETHING OF:

The literally incredible domain of CHARLES FOSTER KANE.

Its right flank resting for nearly forty miles on the Gulf Coast, it truly extends in all directions farther than the eye can see. Designed by nature to be almost completely bare and flat - it was, as will develop, practically all marshland when Kane acquired and changed its face - it is now pleasantly uneven, with its fair share of rolling hills and one very good- sized mountain, all man-made. Almost all the land is improved, either through cultivation for farming purposes of through careful landscaping, in the shape of parks and lakes. The castle dominates itself, an enormous pile, compounded of several genuine castles, of European origin, of varying architecture - dominates the scene, from the very peak of the mountain.

DISSOLVE:

GOLF LINKS (MINIATURE)

Past which we move. The greens are straggly and overgrown, the fairways wild with tropical weeds, the links unused and not seriously tended for a long time.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

WHAT WAS ONCE A GOOD-SIZED ZOO (MINIATURE)

Of the Hagenbeck type. All that now remains, with one exception, are the individual plots, surrounded by moats, on which the animals are kept, free and yet safe from each other and the landscape at large. (Signs on several of the plots indicate that here there were once tigers, lions, girrafes.)

DISSOLVE:

THE MONKEY TERRACE (MINIATURE)

In the foreground, a great obscene ape is outlined against the dawn murk. He is scratching himself slowly, thoughtfully, looking out across the estates of Charles Foster Kane, to the distant light glowing in the castle on the hill.

DISSOLVE:

THE ALLIGATOR PIT (MINIATURE)

The idiot pile of sleepy dragons. Reflected in the muddy water - the lighted window.

THE LAGOON (MINIATURE)

The boat landing sags. An old newspaper floats on the surface of the water - a copy of the New York Enquirer." As it moves across the frame, it discloses again the reflection of the window in the castle, closer than before.

THE GREAT SWIMMING POOL (MINIATURE)

It is empty. A newspaper blows across the cracked floor of the tank.

DISSOLVE:

THE COTTAGES (MINIATURE)

In the shadows, literally the shadows, of the castle. As we move by, we see that their doors and windows are boarded up and locked, with heavy bars as further protection and sealing.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

A DRAWBRIDGE (MINIATURE)

Over a wide moat, now stagnant and choked with weeds. We move across it and through a huge solid gateway into a formal garden, perhaps thirty yards wide and one hundred yards deep, which extends right up to the very wall of the castle. The landscaping surrounding it has been sloppy and causal for a long time, but this particular garden has been kept up in perfect shape. As the camera makes its way through it, towards the lighted window of the castle, there are revealed rare and exotic blooms of all kinds. The dominating note is one of almost exaggerated tropical lushness, hanging limp and despairing. Moss, moss, moss. Ankor Wat, the night the last King died.

DISSOLVE:

THE WINDOW (MINIATURE)

Camera moves in until the frame of the window fills the frame of the screen. Suddenly, the light within goes out. This stops the action of the camera and cuts the music which has been accompanying the sequence. In the glass panes of the window, we see reflected the ripe, dreary landscape of Mr. Kane's estate behind and the dawn sky.

DISSOLVE:

INT. KANE'S BEDROOM - FAINT DAWN -

A very long shot of Kane's enormous bed, silhouetted against the enormous window.

DISSOLVE:

INT. KANE'S BEDROOM - FAINT DAWN - SNOW SCENE.

An incredible one. Big, impossible flakes of snow, a too picturesque farmhouse and a snow man. The jingling of sleigh bells in the musical score now makes an ironic reference to Indian Temple bells - the music freezes -

KANE'S OLD OLD VOICE Rosebud...

The camera pulls back, showing the whole scene to be contained in one of those glass balls which are sold in novelty stores all over the world. A hand - Kane's hand, which has been holding the ball, relaxes. The ball falls out of his hand and bounds down two carpeted steps leading to the bed, the camera following. The ball falls off the last step onto the marble floor where it breaks, the fragments glittering in the first rays of the morning sun. This ray cuts an angular pattern across the floor, suddenly crossed with a thousand bars of light as the blinds are pulled across the window.

The foot of Kane's bed. The camera very close. Outlined against the shuttered window, we can see a form - the form of a nurse, as she pulls the sheet up over his head. The camera follows this action up the length of the bed and arrives at the face after the sheet has covered it.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

INT. OF A MOTION PICTURE PROJECTION ROOM

On the screen as the camera moves in are the words:

"MAIN TITLE"

Stirring, brassy music is heard on the soundtrack (which, of course, sounds more like a soundtrack than ours.)

The screen in the projection room fills our screen as the second title appears:

"CREDITS"

NOTE: Here follows a typical news digest short, one of the regular monthly or bi-monthly features, based on public events or personalities. These are distinguished from ordinary newsreels and short subjects in that they have a fully developed editorial or storyline. Some of the more obvious characteristics of the "March of Time," for example, as well as other documentary shorts, will be combined to give an authentic impression of this now familiar type of short subject. As is the accepted procedure in these short subjects, a narrator is used as well as explanatory titles.

FADE OUT:

NEWS DIGEST NARRATOR Legendary was the Xanadu where Kubla Kahn decreed his stately pleasure dome - (with quotes in his voice) "Where twice five miles of fertile ground, with walls and towers were girdled 'round."

(DROPPING THE QUOTES) Today, almost as legendary is Florida's XANADU - world's largest private pleasure ground. Here, on the deserts of the Gulf Coast, a private mountain was commissioned, successfully built for its landlord. Here in a private valley, as in the Coleridge poem, "blossoms many an incense-bearing tree." Verily, "a miracle of rare device."

U.S.A.

CHARLES FOSTER KANE

Opening shot of great desolate expanse of Florida coastline (1940 - DAY)

DISSOLVE:

Series of shots showing various aspects of Xanadu, all as they might be photographed by an ordinary newsreel cameraman - nicely photographed, but not atmospheric to the extreme extent of the Prologue (1940).

NARRATOR (dropping the quotes) Here, for Xanadu's landlord, will be held 1940's biggest, strangest funeral; here this week is laid to rest a potent figure of our Century - America's Kubla Kahn - Charles Foster Kane. In journalism's history, other names are honored more than Charles Foster Kane's, more justly revered. Among publishers, second only to James Gordon Bennet the First: his dashing, expatriate son; England's Northcliffe and Beaverbrook; Chicago's Patterson and McCormick;

TITLE:

TO FORTY-FOUR MILLION U.S. NEWS BUYERS, MORE NEWSWORTHY THAN THE NAMES IN HIS OWN HEADLINES, WAS KANE HIMSELF, GREATEST NEWSPAPER TYCOON OF THIS OR ANY OTHER GENERATION.

Shot of a huge, screen-filling picture of Kane. Pull back to show that it is a picture on the front page of the "Enquirer," surrounded by the reversed rules of mourning, with masthead and headlines. (1940)

DISSOLVE:

A great number of headlines, set in different types and different styles, obviously from different papers, all announcing Kane's death, all appearing over photographs of Kane himself (perhaps a fifth of the headlines are in foreign languages). An important item in connection with the headlines is that many of them - positively not all - reveal passionately conflicting opinions about Kane. Thus, they contain variously the words "patriot," "democrat," "pacifist," "war-monger," "traitor," "idealist," "American," etc.

TITLE:

1895 TO 1940 - ALL OF THESE YEARS HE COVERED, MANY OF THESE YEARS HE WAS.

Newsreel shots of San Francisco during and after the fire, followed by shots of special trains with large streamers: "Kane Relief Organization." Over these shots superimpose the date - 1906.

Artist's painting of Foch's railroad car and peace negotiators, if actual newsreel shot unavailable. Over this shot sumperimpose the date - 1918.

NARRATOR Denver's Bonfils and Sommes; New York's late, great Joseph Pulitzer; America's emperor of the news syndicate, another editorialist and landlord, the still mighty and once mightier Hearst. Great names all of them - but none of them so loved, hated, feared, so often spoken - as Charles Foster Kane. The San Francisco earthquake. First with the news were the Kane papers. First with Relief of the Sufferers, First with the news of their Relief of the Sufferers. Kane papers scoop the world on the Armistice - publish, eight hours before competitors, complete details of the Armistice teams granted the Germans by Marshall Foch from his railroad car in the Forest of Compeigne. For forty years appeared in Kane newsprint no public issue on which Kane papers took no stand. No public man whom Kane himself did not support or denounce - often support, then denounce. Its humble beginnings, a dying dailey -

Shots with the date - 1898 (to be supplied)

Shots with the date - 1910 (to be supplied)

Shots with the date - 1922 (to be supplied)

Headlines, cartoons, contemporary newreels or stills of the following:

1. WOMAN SUFFRAGE

The celebrated newsreel shot of about 1914.

2. PROHIBITION

Breaking up of a speakeasy and such.

3. T.V.A.

4. LABOR RIOTS

Brief clips of old newreel shots of William Jennings Bryan, Theodore Roosevelt, Stalin, Walter P. Thatcher, Al Smith, McKinley, Landon, Franklin D. Roosevelt and such. Also, recent newsreels of the elderly Kane with such Nazis as Hitler and Goering; and England's Chamberlain and Churchill.

Shot of a ramshackle building with old-fashioned presses showing through plate glass windows and the name "Enquirer" in old- fashioned gold letters. (1892)

DISSOLVE:

NARRATOR Kane's empire, in its glory, held dominion over thirty-seven newpapers, thirteen magazines, a radio network. An empire upon an empire. The first of grocery stores, paper mills, apartment buildings, factories, forests, ocean-liners - An empire through which for fifty years flowed, in an unending stream, the wealth of the earth's third richest gold mine... Famed in American legend is the origin of the Kane fortune... How, to boarding housekeeper Mary Kane, by a defaulting boarder, in 1868 was left the supposedly worthless deed to an abandoned mine shaft: The Colorado Lode. The magnificent Enquirer Building of today.

1891-1911 - a map of the USA, covering the entire screen, which in animated diagram shows the Kane publications spreading from city to city. Starting from New York, minature newboys speed madly to Chicago, Detroit, St. Louis, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Washington, Atlanta, El Paso, etc., screaming "Wuxtry, Kane Papers, Wuxtry."

Shot of a large mine going full blast, chimneys belching smoke, trains moving in and out, etc. A large sign reads "Colorado Lode Mining Co." (1940) Sign reading; "Little Salem, CO - 25 MILES."

DISSOLVE:

An old still shot of Little Salem as it was 70 years ago (identified by copper-plate caption beneath the still). (1870)

Shot of early tintype stills of Thomas Foster Kane and his wife, Mary, on their wedding day. A similar picture of Mary Kane some four or five years later with her little boy, Charles Foster Kane.

NARRATOR Fifty-seven years later, before a Congressional Investigation, Walter P. Thatcher, grand old man of Wall Street, for years chief target of Kane papers' attack on "trusts," recalls a journey he made as a youth...

Shot of Capitol, in Washington D.C.

Shot of Congressional Investigating Committee (reproduction of existing J.P. Morgan newsreel). This runs silent under narration. Walter P. Thatcher is on the stand. He is flanked by his son, Walter P. Thatcher Jr., and other partners. He is being questioned by some Merry Andrew congressmen. At this moment, a baby alligator has just been placed in his lap, causing considerable confusion and embarrassment.

Newsreel close-up of Thatcher, the soundtrack of which now fades in.

THATCHER ... because of that trivial incident...

INVESTIGATOR It is a fact, however, is it not, that in 1870, you did go to Colorado?

THATCHER I did.

INVESTIGATOR In connection with the Kane affairs?

THATCHER Yes. My firm had been appointed trustees by Mrs. Kane for the fortune, which she had recently acquired. It was her wish that I should take charge of this boy, Charles Foster Kane.

NARRATOR That same month in Union Square -

INVESTIGATOR Is it not a fact that on that occasion, the boy personally attacked you after striking you in the stomach with a sled?

Loud laughter and confusion.

THATCHER Mr. Chairman, I will read to this committee a prepared statement I have brought with me - and I will then refuse to answer any further questions. Mr. Johnson, please!

A young assistant hands him a sheet of paper from a briefcase.

THATCHER (reading it) "With full awareness of the meaning of my words and the responsibility of what I am about to say, it is my considered belief that Mr. Charles Foster Kane, in every essence of his social beliefs and by the dangerous manner in which he has persistently attacked the American traditions of private property, initiative and opportunity for advancement, is - in fact - nothing more or less than a Communist."

Newsreel of Union Square meeting, section of crowd carrying banners urging the boycott of Kane papers. A speaker is on the platform above the crowd.

SPEAKER (fading in on soundtrack) - till the words "Charles Foster Kane" are a menace to every working man in this land. He is today what he has always been and always will be - A FASCIST!

NARRATOR And yet another opinion - Kane's own.

Silent newsreel on a windy platform, flag-draped, in front of the magnificent Enquirer building. On platform, in full ceremonial dress, is Charles Foster Kane. He orates silently.

TITLE:

"I AM, HAVE BEEN, AND WILL BE ONLY ONE THING - AN AMERICAN." CHARLES FOSTER KANE.

Same locale, Kane shaking hands out of frame.

Another newsreel shot, much later, very brief, showing Kane, older and much fatter, very tired-looking, seated with his second wife in a nightclub. He looks lonely and unhappy in the midst of the gaiety.

NARRATOR Twice married, twice divorced - first to a president's niece, Emily Norton - today, by her second marriage, chatelaine of the oldest of England's stately homes. Sixteen years after that - two weeks after his divorce from Emily Norton - Kane married Susan Alexander, singer, at the Town Hall in Trenton, New Jersey.

TITLE:

FEW PRIVATE LIVES WERE MORE PUBLIC.

Period still of Emily Norton (1900).

DISSOLVE:

Reconstructed silent newsreel. Kane, Susan, and Bernstein emerging from side doorway of City Hall into a ring of press photographers, reporters, etc. Kane looks startled, recoils for an instance, then charges down upon the photographers, laying about him with his stick, smashing whatever he can hit.

NARRATOR For wife two, one-time opera singing Susan Alexander, Kane built Chicago's Municipal Opera House. Cost: three million dollars. Conceived for Susan Alexander Kane, half-finished before she divorced him, the still unfinished Xanadu. Cost: no man can say.

Still of architect's sketch with typically glorified "rendering" of the Chicago Municipal Opera House.

DISSOLVE:

A glamorous shot of the almost-finished Xanadu, a magnificent fairy-tale estate built on a mountain. (1920)

Then shots of its preparation. (1917)

Shots of truck after truck, train after train, flashing by with tremendous noise.

Shots of vast dredges, steamshovels.

Shot of ship standing offshore unloading its lighters.

In quick succession, shots follow each other, some reconstructed, some in miniature, some real shots (maybe from the dam projects) of building, digging, pouring concrete, etc.

NARRATOR One hundred thousand trees, twenty thousand tons of marble, are the ingredients of Xanadu's mountain. Xanadu's livestock: the fowl of the air, the fish of the sea, the beast of the field and jungle - two of each; the biggest private zoo since Noah. Contents of Kane's palace: paintings, pictures, statues, the very stones of many another palace, shipped to Florida from every corner of the earth, from other Kane houses, warehouses, where they mouldered for years. Enough for ten museums - the loot of the world.

More shots as before, only this time we see (in miniature) a large mountain - at different periods in its development - rising out of the sands.

Shots of elephants, apes, zebras, etc. being herded, unloaded, shipped, etc. in various ways.

Shots of packing cases being unloaded from ships, from trains, from trucks, with various kinds of lettering on them (Italian, Arabian, Chinese, etc.) but all consigned to Charles Foster Kane, Xanadu, Florida.

A reconstructed still of Xanadu - the main terrace. A group of persons in clothes of the period of 1917. In their midst, clearly recognizable, are Kane and Susan.

NARRATOR Kane urged his country's entry into one war, opposed participation in another. Swung the election to one American President at least, was called another's assassin. Thus, Kane's papers might never have survived - had not the President.

TITLE:

FROM XANADU, FOR THE PAST TWENTY-FIVE YEARS, ALL KANE ENTERPRISES HAVE BEEN DIRECTED, MANY OF THE NATIONS DESTINIES SHAPED.

Shots of various authentically worded headlines of American papers since 1895.

Spanish-American War shots. (1898)

A graveyard in France of the World War and hundreds of crosses. (1919)

Old newsreels of a political campaign.

Insert of a particularly virulent headline and/or cartoon.

HEADLINE: "PRESIDENT SHOT"

NARRATOR Kane, molder of mass opinion though he was, in all his life was never granted elective office by the voters of his country. Few U.S. news publishers have been. Few, like one-time Congressman Hearst, have ever run for any office - most know better - conclude with other political observers that one man's press has power enough for himself. But Kane papers were once strong indeed, and once the prize seemed almost his. In 1910, as Independent Candidate for governor, the best elements of the state behind him - the White House seemingly the next easy step in a lightning political career -

NIGHT SHOT OF CROWD BURNING CHARLES FOSTER KANE IN EFFIGY. THE DUMMY BEARS A GROTESQUE, COMIC RESEMBLANCE TO KANE. IT IS TOSSED INTO THE FLAMES, WHICH BURN UP -

AND THEN DOWN... (1910)

FADE OUT:

TITLE:

IN POLITICS - ALWAYS A BRIDESMAID, NEVER A BRIDE

Newsreel shots of great crowds streaming into a building - Madison Square Garden - then shots inside the vast auditorium, at one end of which is a huge picture of Kane. (1910)

Shot of box containing the first Mrs. Kane and young Howard Kane, age five. They are acknowledging the cheers of the crowd. (Silent Shot) (1910)

Newreel shot of dignitaries on platform, with Kane, alongside of speaker's table, beaming, hand upraised to silence the crowd. (Silent Shot) (1910)

NARRATOR Then, suddenly - less than one week before election - defeat! Shameful, ignominious - defeat that set back for twenty years the cause of reform in the U.S., forever cancelled political chances for Charles Foster Kane. Then, in the third year of the Great Depression... As to all publishers, it sometimes must - to Bennett, to Munsey and Hearst it did - a paper closes! For Kane, in four short years: collapse! Eleven Kane papers, four Kane magazines merged, more sold, scrapped -

Newreel shot - closeup of Kane delivering a speech... (1910)

The front page of a contemporary paper - a screaming headline. Twin phots of Kane and Susan. (1910)

Printed title about Depression.

Once more repeat the map of the USA 1932-1939. Suddenly, the cartoon goes into reverse, the empire begins to shrink, illustrating the narrator's words.

The door of a newspaper office with the signs: "Closed."

NARRATOR Then four long years more - alone in his never-finished, already decaying, pleasure palace, aloof, seldom visited, never photographed, Charles Foster Kane continued to direct his falling empire ... vainly attempting to sway, as he once did, the destinies of a nation that has ceased to listen to him ... ceased to trust him...

SHOTS OF XANADU. (1940)

Series of shots, entirely modern, but rather jumpy and obviously bootlegged, showing Kane in a bath chair, swathed in summer rugs, being perambulated through his rose garden, a desolate figure in the sunshine. (1935)

NARRATOR Last week, death came to sit upon the throne of America's Kubla Khan - last week, as it must to all men, death came to Charles Foster Kane.

DISSOLVE:

Cabinent Photograph (Full Screen) of Kane as an old, old man. This image remains constant on the screen (as camera pulls back, taking in the interior of a dark projection room.

INT. PROJECTION ROOM - DAY -

A fairly large one, with a long throw to the screen. It is dark.

The image of Kane as an old man remains constant on the screen as camera pulls back, slowly taking in and registering Projection Room. This action occurs, however, only after the first few lines of encuring dialogue have been spoken. The shadows of the men speaking appear as they rise from their chairs - black against the image of Kane's face on the screen.

NOTE: These are the editors of a "News Digest" short, and of the Rawlston magazines. All his enterprises are represented in the projection room, and Rawlston himself, that great man, is present also and will shortly speak up.

During the entire course of this scene, nobody's face is really seen. Sections of their bodies are picked out by a table light, a silhouette is thrown on the screen, and their faces and bodies are themselves thrown into silhouette against the brilliant slanting rays of light from the projection room.

A Third Man is on the telephone. We see a corner of his head and the phone.

THIRD MAN (at phone) Stand by. I'll tell you if we want to run it again. (hangs up)

THOMPSON'S VOICE Well?

A short pause.

A MAN'S VOICE It's a tough thing to do in a newsreel. Seventy years of a man's life -

Murmur of highly salaried assent at this. Rawlston walks toward camera and out of the picture. Others are rising. Camera during all of this, apparently does its best to follow action and pick up faces, but fails. Actually, all set-ups are to be planned very carefully to exclude the element of personality from this scene; which is expressed entirely by voices, shadows, sillhouettes and the big, bright image of Kane himself on the screen.

A VOICE See what Arthur Ellis wrote about him in the American review?

THIRD MAN I read it.

THE VOICE (its owner is already leaning across the table, holding a piece of paper under the desk light and reading from it) Listen: Kane is dead. He contributed to the journalism of his day - the talent of a mountebank, the morals of a bootlegger, and the manners of a pasha. He and his kind have almost succeeded in transforming a once noble profession into a seven percent security - no longer secure.

ANOTHER VOICE That's what Arthur Ellis is writing now. Thirty years ago, when Kane gave him his chance to clean up Detroit and Chicago and St. Louis, Kane was the greatest guy in the world. If you ask me -

ANOTHER VOICE Charles Foster Kane was a...

Then observations are made almost simultaneous.

RAWLSTON'S VOICE Just a minute!

Camera moves to take in his bulk outlined against the glow from the projection room.

RAWLSTON What were Kane's last words?

A silence greets this.

RAWLSTON What were the last words he said on earth? Thompson, you've made us a good short, but it needs character -

SOMEBODY'S VOICE Motivation -

RAWLSTON That's it - motivation. What made Kane what he was? And, for that matter, what was he? What we've just seen are the outlines of a career - what's behind the career? What's the man? Was he good or bad? Strong or foolish? Tragic or silly? Why did he do all those things? What was he after? (then, appreciating his point) Maybe he told us on his death bed.

THOMPSON Yes, and maybe he didn't.

RAWLSTON Ask the question anyway, Thompson! Build the picture around the question, even if you can't answer it.

THOMPSON I know, but -

RAWLSTON (riding over him like any other producer) All we saw on that screen was a big American -

A VOICE One of the biggest.

RAWLSTON (without pausing for this) But how is he different from Ford? Or Hearst for that matter? Or Rockefeller - or John Doe?

A VOICE I know people worked for Kane will tell you - not only in the newspaper business - look how he raised salaries. You don't want to forget -

ANOTHER VOICE You take his labor record alone, they ought to hang him up like a dog.

RAWLSTON I tell you, Thompson - a man's dying words -

SOMEBODY'S VOICE What were they?

Silence.

SOMEBODY'S VOICE (hesitant) Yes, Mr. Rawlston, what were Kane's dying words?

RAWLSTON (with disgust) Rosebud!

A little ripple of laughter at this, which is promptly silenced by Rawlston.

RAWLSTON That's right.

A VOICE Tough guy, huh? (derisively) Dies calling for Rosebud!

RAWLSTON Here's a man who might have been President. He's been loved and hated and talked about as much as any man in our time - but when he comes to die, he's got something on his mind called "Rosebud." What does that mean?

ANOTHER VOICE A racehorse he bet on once, probably, that didn't come in - Rosebud!

RAWLSTON All right. But what was the race?

There is a short silence.

RAWLSTON Thompson!

THOMPSON Yes, sir.

RAWLSTON Hold this thing up for a week. Two weeks if you have to...

THOMPSON (feebly) But don't you think if we release it now - he's only been dead four days it might be better than if -

RAWLSTON (decisively) Nothing is ever better than finding out what makes people tick. Go after the people that knew Kane well. That manager of his - the little guy, Bernstein, those two wives, all the people who knew him, had worked for him, who loved him, who hated his guts - (pauses) I don't mean go through the City Directory, of course -

The Third Man gives a hearty "yes-man" laugh.

THOMPSON I'll get to it right away, Mr. Rawlston.

RAWLSTON (rising) Good!

The camera from behind him, outlines his back against Kane's picture on the screen.

RAWLSTON'S VOICE It'll probably turn out to be a very simple thing...

FADE OUT:

[quote] The spamming waitress is tired of the racist posts and race baiting threads permitted on DL

Eh, no. The spammer is also all over the Lee Pace and Bomer threads, which have no mention of race (Matt's race from Simon's bag of oranges doesn't count).

Soon someone will mention Eric Cantor.

The old movie star from the 30s?

Until our beloved webmaster goes after racist threads with the same violence he does pro-Z I O N I S T threads and Tig Notaro takedowns, you'll have your spam and like it, too!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Until our beloved webmaster goes after racist threads with the same violence he does pro-Z I O N I S T threads and Tig Notaro takedowns, you'll have your spam and like it, too!

Waitress: Morning!

Man: Well, what've you got?

Waitress: Well, there's egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam;

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam...

Waitress: ...spam spam spam egg and spam; spam spam spam spam spam spam baked beans spam spam spam...

Vikings: Spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam!

Waitress: ...or Lobster Thermidor a Crevette with a mornay sauce served in a Provencale manner with shallots and aubergines garnished with truffle pate, brandy and with a fried egg on top and spam.

Wife: Have you got anything without spam?

Waitress: Well, there's spam egg sausage and spam, that's not got much spam in it.

Wife: I don't want ANY spam!

Man: Why can't she have egg bacon spam and sausage?

Wife: THAT'S got spam in it!

Man: Hasn't got as much spam in it as spam egg sausage and spam, has it?

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam... (Crescendo through next few lines...)

Wife: Could you do the egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam then?

Waitress: Urgghh!

Wife: What do you mean 'Urgghh'? I don't like spam!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!

Vikings: Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up! (Vikings stop) Bloody Vikings! You can't have egg bacon spam and sausage without the spam.

Wife: I don't like spam!

Man: Sshh, dear, don't cause a fuss. I'll have your spam. I love it. I'm having spam spam spam spam spam spam spam beaked beans spam spam spam and spam!

Vikings: Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

Waitress: Shut up!! Baked beans are off.

Man: Well could I have her spam instead of the baked beans then?

Waitress: You mean spam spam spam spam spam spam... (but it is too late and the Vikings drown her words)

Vikings: (Singing elaborately...) Spam spam spam spam. Lovely spam! Wonderful spam! Spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam spa-a-a-a-a-am spam. Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Lovely spam! Spam spam spam spam!

Spammer, get the fuck over yourself, you yourself just are not that important

Although I hate threads like this one, I can't imagine how someone could find the time to spam this place so diligently, or why anyone would take DL seriously enough to bother.

warned you asshole NOTE: Now begins the story proper - the seach by Thompson for the facts about Kane - his researches ... his interviews with the people who knew Kane.

It is important to remember always that only at the very end of the story is Thompson himself a personality. Until then, throughout the picture, we photograph only Thompson's back, shoulders, or his shadow - sometimes we only record his voice. He is not until the final scene a "character". He is the personification of the search for the truth about Charles Foster Kane. He is the investigator.

FADE IN:

EXT. CHEAP CABARET - "EL RANCHO" - ATLANTIC CITY - NIGHT - 1940 (MINIATURE) - RAIN

The first image to register is a sign:

"EL RANCHO"

FLOOR SHOW

SUSAN ALEXANDER KANE

TWICE NIGHTLY

These words, spelled out in neon, glow out of the darkness at the end of the fade out. Then there is lightning which reveals a squalid roof-top on which the sign stands. Thunder again, and faintly the sound of music from within. A light glows from a skylight. The camera moves to this and closes in. Through the splashes of rain, we see through the skylight down into the interior of the cabaret. Directly below us at a table sits the lone figure of a woman, drinking by herself.

DISSOLVE:

INT. "EL RANCO" CABARET - NIGHT -

Medium shot of the same woman as before, finishing the drink she started to take above. It is Susie. The music, of course, is now very loud. Thompson, his back to the camera, moves into the picture in the close foreground. A Captain appears behind Susie, speaking across her to Thompson.

THE CAPTAIN (a Greek) This is Mr. Thompson, Miss Alexander.

Susan looks up into Thompson's face. She is fifty, trying to look much younger, cheaply blonded, in a cheap, enormously generous evening dress. Blinking up into Thompson's face, she throws a crink into ther mouth. Her eyes, which she thinks is keeping commandingly on his, are bleared and watery.

SUSAN (to the Captain) I want another drink, John.

Low thunder from outside.

THE CAPTAIN (seeing his chance) Right away. Will you have something, Mr. Thompson?

THOMPSON (staring to sit down) I'll have a highball.

SUSAN (so insistently as to make Thompson change his mind and stand up again) Who told you you could sit down here?

THOMPSON Oh! I thought maybe we could have a drink together?

SUSAN Think again!

There is an awkward pause as Thompson looks from her to the Captain.

SUSAN Why don't you people let me alone? I'm minding my own business. You mind yours.

THOMPSON If you'd just let me talk to you for a little while, Miss Alexander. All I want to ask you...

SUSAN Get out of here! (almost hysterical) Get out! Get out!

Thompson looks at the Captain, who shrugs his shoulders.

THOMPSON I'm sorry. Maybe some other time -

If he thought he would get a response from Susan, who thinks she is looking at him steelily, he realizes his error. He nods and walks off, following the Captain out the door.

THE CAPTAIN She's just not talking to anybody from the newspapers, Mr. Thompson.

THOMPSON I'm not from a newspaper exactly, I -

They have come upon a waiter standing in front of a booth.

THE CAPTAIN (to the waiter) Get her another highball.

THE WAITER Another double?

THE CAPTAIN (after a moment, pityingly) Yes.

They walk to the door.

THOMPSON She's plastered, isn't she?

THE CAPTAIN She'll snap out of it. Why, until he died, she'd just as soon talk about Mr. Kane as about anybody. Sooner.

THOMPSON I'll come down in a week or so and see her again. Say, you might be able to help me. When she used to talk about Kane - did she ever happen to say anything - about Rosebud?

THE CAPTAIN Rosebud?

Thompson has just handed him a bill. The Captain pockets it.

THE CAPTAIN Thank you, sir. As a matter of fact, yesterday afternoon, when it was in all the papers - I asked her. She never heard of Rosebud.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

INT. THATCHER MEMORIAL LIBRARY - DAY -

An excruciatingly noble interpretation of Mr. Thatcher himself executed in expensive marble. He is shown seated on one of those improbable Booth chairs and is looking down, his stone eyes fixed on the camera.

We move down off of this, showing the impressive pedestal on which the monument is founded. The words, "Walter Parks Thatcher" are prominently and elegantly engraved thereon. Immediately below the inscription we encounter, in a medium shot, the person of Bertha Anderson, an elderly, manish spinnster, seated behind her desk. Thompson, his hat in his hand, is standing before her. Bertha is on the phone.

BERTHA (into phone) Yes. I'll take him in now. (hangs up and looks at Thompson) The directors of the Thatcher Library have asked me to remind you again of the condition under which you may inspect certain portions of Mr. Thatcher's unpublished memoirs. Under no circumstances are direct quotations from his manuscript to be used by you.

THOMPSON That's all right.

BERTHA You may come with me.

Without watching whether he is following her or not, she rises and starts towards a distant and imposingly framed door. Thompson, with a bit of a sigh, follows.

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. THE VAULT ROOM - THATCHER MEMORIAL LIBRARY - DAY -

A room with all the warmth and charm of Napolean's tomb.

As we dissolve in, the door opens in and we see past Thompson's shoulders the length of the room. Everything very plain, very much made out of marble and very gloomy. Illumination from a skylight above adds to the general air of expensive and classical despair. The floor is marble, and there is a gigantic, mahogany table in the center of everything. Beyond this is to be seen, sunk in the marble wall at the far end of the room, the safe from which a guard, in a khaki uniform, with a revolver holster at his hip, is extracting the journal of Walter P. Thatcher. He brings it to Bertha as if he were the guardian of a bullion shipment. During this, Bertha has been speaking.

BERTHA (to the guard) Pages eighty-three to one hundred and forty-two, Jennings.

GUARD Yes, Miss Anderson.

BERTHA (to Thompson) You will confine yourself, it is our understanding, to the chapter dealing with Mr. Kane.

THOMPSON That's all I'm interested in.

The guard has, by this time, delivered the precious journal. Bertha places it reverently on the table before Thompson.

BERTHA You will be required to leave this room at four-thirty promptly.

She leaves. Thompson starts to light a cigarette. The guard shakes his head. With a sigh, Thompson bends over to read the manuscript. Camera moves down over his shoulder onto page of manuscript.

Manuscript, neatly and precisely written:

"CHARLES FOSTER KANE

WHEN THESE LINES APPEAR IN PRINT, FIFTY YEARS AFTER MY DEATH, I AM CONFIDENT THAT THE WHOLE WORLD WILL AGREE WITH MY OPINION OF CHARLES FOSTER KANE, ASSUMING THAT HE IS NOT THEN COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN, WHICH I REGARD AS EXTREMELY LIKELY. A GOOD DEAL OF NONSENSE HAS APPEARED ABOUT MY FIRST MEETING WITH KANE, WHEN HE WAS SIX YEARS OLD... THE FACTS ARE SIMPLE. IN THE WINTER OF 1870..."

The camera has not held on the entire page. It has been following the words with the same action that the eye does the reading. On the last words, the white page of the paper

DISSOLVES INTO:

EXT. MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY -

The white of a great field of snow, seen from the angle of a parlor window.

In the same position of the last word in above Insert, appears the tiny figure of Charles Foster Kane, aged five (almost like an animated cartoon). He is in the act of throwing a snowball at the camera. It sails toward us and over our heads, out of scene.

Reverse angle - on the house featuring a large sign reading:

MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE

HIGH CLASS MEALS AND LODGING

INQUIRE WITHIN

Charles Kane's snowball hits the sign.

INT. PARLOR - MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY -

Camera is angling through the window, but the window-frame is not cut into scene. We see only the field of snow again, same angle as in previous scene. Charles is manufacturing another snowball. Now -

Camera pulls back, the frame of the window appearing, and we are inside the parlor of the boardinghouse. Mrs. Kane, aged about 28, is looking out towards her son. Just as we take her in she speaks:

MRS. KANE (calling out) Be careful, Charles!

THATCHER'S VOICE Mrs. Kane -

MRS. KANE (Calling out the window almost on top of this) Pull your muffler around your neck, Charles -

But Charles, deliriously happy in the snow, is oblivious to this and is running away. Mrs. Kane turns into camera and we see her face - a strong face, worn and kind.

THATCHER'S VOICE think we'll have to tell him now -

Camera now pulls back further, showing Thatcher standing before a table on which is his stove-pipe hat and an imposing multiplicity of official-looking documents. He is 26 and, as might be expected, a very stuffy young man, already very expensive and conservative looking, even in Colorado.

MRS. KANE I'll sign those papers -

KANE SR. You people seem to forget that I'm the boy's father.

At the sound of Kane Sr.'s voice, both have turned to him and the camera pulls back still further, taking him in.

Kane Sr., who is the assistant curator in a livery stable, has been groomed as elegantly as is likely for this meeting ever since daybreak.

From outside the window can be heard faintly the wild and cheerful cries of the boy, blissfully cavorting in the snow.

MRS. KANE It's going to be done exactly the way I've told Mr. Thatcher -

KANE SR. If I want to, I can go to court. father has a right to -

THATCHER (annoyed) Mr. Kane, the certificates that Mr. Graves left here are made out to Mrs. Kane, in her name. Hers to do with as she pleases -

KANE SR. Well, I don't hold with signing my boy away to any bank as guardian just because -

MRS. KANE (quietly) I want you to stop all this nonsense, Jim.

THATCHER The Bank's decision in all matters concerning his education, his place of residence and similar subjects will be final. (clears his throat)

KANE SR. The idea of a bank being the guardian -

Mrs. Kane has met his eye. Her triumph over him finds expression in his failure to finish his sentence.

MRS. KANE (even more quietly) I want you to stop all this nonsense, Jim.

THATCHER We will assume full management of the Colorado Lode - of which you, Mrs. Kane, are the sole owner.

Kane Sr. opens his mouth once or twice, as if to say something, but chokes down his opinion.

MRS. KANE (has been reading past Thatcher's shoulder as he talked) Where do I sign, Mr. Thatcher?

THATCHER Right here, Mrs. Kane.

KANE SR. (sulkily) Don't say I didn't warn you.

Mrs. Kane lifts the quill pen.

KANE SR. Mary, I'm asking you for the last time - anyon'd think I hadn't been a good husband and a -

Mrs. Kane looks at him slowly. He stops his speech.

THATCHER The sum of fifty thousand dollars a year is to be paid to yourself and Mr. Kane as long as you both live, and thereafter the survivor -

Mrs. Kane puts pen to the paper and signs.

KANE SR. Well, let's hope it's all for the best.

MRS. KANE It is. Go on, Mr. Thatcher -

Mrs. Kane, listening to Thatcher, of course has had her other ear bent in the direction of the boy's voice. Thatcher is aware both of the boy's voice, which is counter to his own, and of Mrs. Kane's divided attention. As he pauses, Kane Sr. genteelly walks over to close the window.

EXT. MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY -

Kane Jr., seen from Kane Sr.'s position at the window. He is advancing on the snowman, snowballs in his hands, dropping to one knee the better to confound his adversary.

KANE If the rebels want a fight boys, let's give it to 'em!

He throws two snowballs, missing widely, and gets up and advances another five feet before getting on his knees again.

KANE The terms are underconditional surrender. Up and at 'em! The Union forever!

INT. PARLOR - MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY -

Kane Sr. closes the window.

THATCHER (over the boy's voice) Everything else - the principal as well as all monies earned - is to be administered by the bank in trust for your son, Charles Foster Kane, until his twenty-fifth birthday, at which time he is to come into complete possession.

Mrs. Kane rises and goes to the window.

MRS. KANE Go on, Mr. Thatcher.

Thatcher continues as she opens the window. His voice, as before, is heard with overtones of the boy's.

EXT. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY -

Kane Jr., seen from Mrs. Kane's position at the window. He is now within ten feet of the snowman, with one snowball left which he is holding back in his right hand.

KANE You can't lick Andy Jackson! Old Hickory, that's me!

He fires his snowball, well wide of the mark and falls flat on his stomach, starting to crawl carefully toward the snowman.

THATCHER'S VOICE It's nearly five, Mrs. Kane, don't you think I'd better meet the boy -

INT. PARLOR - MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY -

Mrs. Kane at the window. Thatcher is now standing at her side.

MRS. KANE I've got his trunk all packed - (she chokes a little) I've it packed for a couple of weeks -

She can't say anymore. She starts for the hall day. Kane Sr., ill at ease, has no idea of how to comfort her.

THATCHER I've arranged for a tutor to meet us in Chicago. I'd have brought him along with me, but you were so anxious to keep everything secret -

He stops as he realizes that Mrs. Kane has paid no attention to him and, having opened the door, is already well into the hall that leads to the side door of the house. He takes a look at Kane Sr., tightens his lips and follows Mrs. Kane. Kane, shoulders thrown back like one who bears defeat bravely, follows him.

EXT. MRS. KANE'S BOARDINGHOUSE - DAY -

Kane, in the snow-covered field. With the snowman between him and the house, he is holding the sled in his hand, just about to make the little run that prefaces a belly-flop. The Kane house, in the background, is a dilapidated, shabby, two-story frame building, with a wooden outhouse. Kane looks up as he sees the single file procession, Mrs. Kane at its head, coming toward him.

KANE H'ya, Mom.

Mrs. Kane smiles.

KANE (gesturing at the snowman) See, Mom? I took the pipe out of his mouth. If it keeps on snowin', maybe I'll make some teeth and -

MRS. KANE You better come inside, son. You and I have got to get you all ready for - for -

THATCHER Charles, my name is Mr. Thatcher -

MRS. KANE This is Mr. Thatcher, Charles.

THATCHER How do you do, Charles?

KANE SR. He comes from the east.

KANE Hello. Hello, Pop.

KANE SR. Hello, Charlie!

MRS. KANE Mr. Thatcher is going to take you on a trip with him tonight, Charles. You'll be leaving on Number Ten.

KANE SR. That's the train with all the lights.

KANE You goin', Mom?

THATCHER Your mother won't be going right away, Charles -

KANE Where'm I going?

KANE SR. You're going to see Chicago and New York - and Washington, maybe... Isn't he, Mr. Thatcher?

THATCHER (heartily) He certainly is. I wish I were a little boy and going to make a trip like that for the first time.

KANE Why aren't you comin' with us, Mom?

MRS. KANE We have to stay here, Charles.

KANE SR. You're going to live with Mr. Thatcher from now on, Charlie! You're going to be rich. Your Ma figures - that is, re - she and I have decided that this isn't the place for you to grow up in. You'll probably be the richest man in America someday and you ought to -

MRS. KANE You won't be lonely, Charles...

THATCHER We're going to have a lot of good times together, Charles... Really we are.

Kane stares at him.

THATCHER Come on, Charles. Let's shake hands. (extends his hand. Charles continues to look at him) Now, now! I'm not as frightening as all that! Let's shake, what do you say?

He reaches out for Charles's hand. Without a word, Charles hits him in the stomach with the sled. Thatcher stumbles back a few feet, gasping.

THATCHER (with a sickly grin) You almost hurt me, Charles. (moves towards him) Sleds aren't to hit people with. Sleds are to - to sleigh on. When we get to New York, Charles, we'll get you a sled that will -

He's near enough to try to put a hand on Kane's shoulder. As he does, Kane kicks him in the ankle.

MRS. KANE Charles!

He throws himself on her, his arms around her. Slowly Mrs. Kane puts her arms around him.

KANE (frightened) Mom! Mom!

MRS. KANE It's all right, Charles, it's all right.

Thatcher is looking on indignantly, occasionally bending over to rub his ankle.

KANE SR. Sorry, Mr. Thatcher! What the kid needs is a good thrashing!

MRS. KANE That's what you think, is it, Jim?

KANE SR. Yes.

Mrs. Kane looks slowly at Mr. Kane.

MRS. KANE (slowly) That's why he's going to be brought up where you can't get at him.

DISSOLVE:

1870 - NIGHT (STOCK OR MINIATURE)

Old-fashioned railroad wheels underneath a sleeper, spinning along the track.

DISSOLVE:

INT. TRAIN - OLD-FASHIONED DRAWING ROOM - NIGHT -

Thatcher, with a look of mingled exasperation, annoyance, sympathy and inability to handle the situation, is standing alongside a berth, looking at Kane. Kane, his face in the pillow, is crying with heartbreaking sobs.

KANE Mom! Mom!

DISSOLVE OUT:

The white page of the Thatcher manuscript. We pick up the words:

"HE WAS, I REPEAT, A COMMON ADVENTURER, SPOILED, UNSCRUPULOUS, IRRESPONSIBLE."

The words are followed by printed headline on "Enquirer" copy (as in following scene).

INT. ENQUIRER CITY ROOM - DAY -

Close-up on printed headline which reads:

"ENEMY ARMADA OFF JERSEY COAST"

Camera pulls back to reveal Thatcher holding the "Enquirer" copy, on which we read the headline. He is standing near the editorial round table around which a section of the staff, including Reilly, Leland and Kane are eating lunch.

THATCHER (coldly) Is that really your idea of how to run a newspaper?

KANE I don't know how to run a newspaper, Mr. Thatcher. I just try everything I can think of.

THATCHER (reading headline of paper he is still holding) "Enemy Armada Off Jersey Coast." You know you haven't the slightest proof that this - this armada - is off the Jersey Coast.

KANE Can you prove it isn't?

Bernstein has come into the picture. He has a cable in his hand. He stops when he sees Thatcher.

KANE Mr. Bernstein, Mr. Thatcher -

BERNSTEIN How are you, Mr. Thatcher?

THATCHER How do you do? -

BERNSTEIN We just had a wire from Cuba, Mr. Kane - (stops, embarrassed)

KANE That's all right. We have no secrets from our readers. Mr. Thatcher is one of our most devoted readers, Mr. Bernstein. He knows what's wrong with every issue since I've taken charge. What's the cable?

BERNSTEIN (reading) The food is marvelous in Cuba the senoritas are beautiful stop I could send you prose poems of palm trees and sunrises and tropical colors blending in far off landscapes but don't feel right in spending your money for this stop there's no war in Cuba regards Wheeler.

THATCHER You see! There hasn't been a true word -

KANE I think we'll have to send our friend Wheeler a cable, Mr. Bernstein. Of course, we'll have to make it shorter than his, because he's working on an expense account and we're not. Let me see - (snaps his fingers) Mike!

MIKE (a fairly tough customer prepares to take dictation, his mouth still full of food) Go ahead, Mr. Kane.

KANE Dear Wheeler - (pauses a moment) You provide the prose poems - I'll provide the war.

Laughter from the boys and girls at the table.

BERNSTEIN That's fine, Mr. Kane.

KANE I rather like it myself. Send it right away.

MIKE Right away.

BERNSTEIN Right away.

Mike and Bernstein leave. Kane looks up, grinning at Thatcher, who is bursting with indignation but controls himself. After a moment of indecision, he decides to make one last try.

THATCHER I came to see you, Charles, about your - about the Enquirer's campaign against the Metropolitan Transfer Company.

KANE Won't you step into my office, Mr. Thatcher?

They cross the City Room together.

THATCHER I think I should remind you, Charles, of a fact you seem to have forgotten. You are yourself one of the largest individual stockholders.

INT. KANE'S OFFICE - DAY -

Kane holds the door open for Thatcher. They come in together.

KANE Mr. Thatcher, isn't everything I've been saying in the Enquirer about the traction trust absolutely true?

THATCHER (angrily) They're all part of your general attack - your senseless attack - on everything and everybody who's got more than ten cents in his pocket. They're -

KANE The trouble is, Mr. Thatcher, you don't realize you're talking to two people.

Kane moves around behind his desk. Thatcher doesn't understand, looks at him.

KANE As Charles Foster Kane, who has eighty-two thousand, six hundred and thirty-one shares of Metropolitan Transfer - you see, I do have a rough idea of my holdings - I sympathize with you. Charles Foster Kane is a dangerous scoundrel, his paper should be run out of town and a committee should be formed to boycott him. You may, if you can form such a committee, put me down for a contribution of one thousand dollars.

THATCHER (angrily) Charles, my time is too valuable for me -

KANE On the other hand - (his manner becomes serious) I am the publisher of the Enquirer. As such, it is my duty - I'll let you in on a little secret, it is also my pleasure - to see to it that decent, hard-working people of this city are not robbed blind by a group of money - mad pirates because, God help them, they have no one to look after their interests! I'll let you in on another little secret, Mr. Thatcher. I think I'm the man to do it. You see, I have money and property -

Thatcher doesn't understand him.

KANE If I don't defend the interests of the underprivileged, somebody else will - maybe somebody without any money or any property and that would be too bad.

Thatcher glares at him, unable to answer. Kane starts to dance.

KANE Do you know how to tap, Mr. Thatcher? You ought to learn - (humming quietly, he continues to dance)

Thatcher puts on his hat.

THATCHER I happened to see your consolidated statement yesterday, Charles. Could I not suggest to you that it is unwise for you to continue this philanthropic enterprise - (sneeringly) this Enquirer - that is costing you one million dollars a year?

KANE You're right. We did lose a million dollars last year.

Thatcher thinks maybe the point has registered.

KANE We expect to lost a million next year, too. You know, Mr. Thatcher - (starts tapping quietly) at the rate of a million a year - we'll have to close this place in sixty years.

DISSOLVE:

INT. THE VAULT ROOM - THATCHER MEMORIAL LIBRARY - DAY

Thompson - at the desk. With a gesture of annoyance, he is closing the manuscript.

Camera arcs quickly around from over his shoulder to hold on door behind him, missing his face as he rises and turns to confront Miss Anderson, who has come into the room to shoo him out. Very prominent on this wall is an over-sized oil painting of Thatcher in the best Union League Club renaissance style.

MISS ANDERSON You have enjoyed a very rare privilege, young man. Did you find what you were looking for?

THOMPSON No. Tell me something, Miss Anderson. You're not Rosebud, are you?

MISS ANDERSON What?

THOMPSON I didn't think you were. Well, thanks for the use of the hall.

He puts his hat on his head and starts out, lighting a cigarette as he goes. Miss Anderson, scandalized, watches him.

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - ENQUIRER SKYSCRAPER - DAY -

Closeup of a still of Kane, aged about sixty-five. Camera pulls back, showing it is a framed photograph on the wall. Over the picture are crossed American flags. Under it sits Bernstein, back of his desk. Bernstein, always an undersized Jew, now seems even smaller than in his youth. He is bald as an egg, spry, with remarkably intense eyes. As camera continues to travel back, the back of Thompson's head and his shoulders come into the picture.

BERNSTEIN (wryly) Who's a busy man? Me? I'm Chairman of the Board. I got nothing but time ... What do you want to know?

THOMPSON (still explaining) Well, Mr. Bernstein, you were with Mr. Kane from the very beginning -

BERNSTEIN From before the beginning, young fellow. And now it's after the end. (turns to Thompson) Anything you want to know about him - about the paper -

THOMPSON - We thought maybe, if we can find out what he meant by that last word - as he was dying -

BERNSTEIN That Rosebud? Maybe some girl? There were a lot of them back in the early days, and -

THOMPSON Not some girl he knew casually and then remembered after fifty years, on his death bed -

BERNSTEIN You're pretty young, Mr. - (remembers the name) Mr. Thompson. A fellow will remember things you wouldn't think he'd remember. You take me. One day, back in 1896, I was crossing over to Jersey on a ferry and as we pulled out, there was another ferry pulling in - (slowly) - and on it, there was a girl waiting to get off. A white dress she had on - and she was carrying a white pastrol - and I only saw her for one second and she didn't see me at all - but I'll bet a month hasn't gone by since that I haven't thought of that girl. (triumphantly) See what I mean? (smiles) Well, so what are you doing about this "Rosebud," Mr. Thompson.

THOMPSON I'm calling on people who knew Mr. Kane. I'm calling on you.

BERNSTEIN Who else you been to see?

THOMPSON Well, I went down to Atlantic City -

BERNSTEIN Susie? I called her myself the day after he died. I thought maybe somebody ought to... (sadly) She couldn't even come to the 'phone.

THOMPSON You know why? She was so -

BERNSTEIN Sure, sure.

THOMPSON I'm going back there.

BERNSTEIN Who else did you see?

THOMPSON Nobody else, but I've been through that stuff of Walter Thatcher's. That journal of his -

BERNSTEIN Thatcher! That man was the biggest darn fool I ever met -

THOMPSON He made an awful lot of money.

BERNSTEIN It's not trick to make an awful lot of money if all you want is to make a lot of money. (his eyes get reflective) Thatcher!

Bernstein looks out of the window and keeps on looking, seeming to see something as he talks.

BERNSTEIN He never knew there was anything in the world but money. That kind of fellow you can fool every day in the week - and twice on Sundays! (reflectively) The time he came to Rome for Mr. Kane's twenty-fifth birthday... You know, when Mr. Kane got control of his own money... Such a fool like Thatcher - I tell you, nobody's business!

DISSOLVE OUT:

DISSOLVE IN:

INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - DAY -

Bernstein speaking to Thompson.

BERNSTEIN He knew what he wanted, Mr. Kane did, and he got it! Thatcher never did figure him out. He was hard to figure sometimes, even for me. Mr. Kane was a genius like he said. He had that funny sense of humor. Sometimes even I didn't get the joke. Like that night the opera house of his opened in Chicago... You know, the opera house he built for Susie, she should be an opera singer... (indicates with a little wave of his hand what he thinks of that; sighing) That was years later, of course - 1914 it was. Mrs. Kane took the leading part in the opera, and she was terrible. But nobody had the nerve to say so - not even the critics. Mr. Kane was a big man in those days. But this one fellow, this friend of his, Branford Leland -

He leaves the sentence up in the air, as we

DISSOLVE:

INT. CITY ROOM - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT -

It is late. The room is almost empty. Nobody is at work at the desks. Bernstein, fifty, is waiting anxiously with a little group of Kane's hirelings, most of them in evening dress with overcoats and hats. Eveybody is tense and expectant.

CITY EDITOR (turns to a young hireling; quietly) What about Branford Leland? Has he got in his copy?

HIRELING Not yet.

BERNSTEIN Go in and ask him to hurry.

CITY EDITOR Well, why don't you, Mr. Bernstein? You know Mr. Leland.

BERNSTEIN (looks at him for a moment; then slowly) I might make him nervous.

CITY EDITOR (after a pause) You and Leland and Mr. Kane - you were great friends back in the old days, I understand.

BERNSTEIN (with a smile) That's right. They called us the "Three Musketeers."

Somebody behind Bernstein has trouble concealing his laughter. The City Editor speaks quickly to cover the situation.

CITY EDITOR He's a great guy - Leland. (another little pause) Why'd he ever leave New York?

BERNSTEIN (he isn't saying) That's a long story.

ANOTHER HIRELING (a tactless one) Wasn't there some sort of quarrel between -

BERNSTEIN (quickly) I had nothing to do with it. (then, somberly) It was Leland and Mr. Kane, and you couldn't call it a quarrel exactly. Better we should forget such things - (turning to City Editor) Leland is writing it up from the dramatic angle?

CITY EDITOR Yes. I thought it was a good idea. We've covered it from the news end, of course.

BERNSTEIN And the social. How about the music notice? You got that in?

CITY EDITOR Oh, yes, it's already made up. Our Mr. Mervin wrote a small review.

BERNSTEIN Enthusiastic?

CITY EDITOR Yes, very! (quietly) Naturally.

BERNSTEIN Well, well - isn't that nice?

KANE'S VOICE Mr. Bernstein -

Bernstein turns.

Medium long shot of Kane, now forty-nine, already quite stout. He is in white tie, wearing his overcoat and carrying a folded opera hat.

BERNSTEIN Hello, Mr. Kane.

The Hirelings rush, with Bernstein, to Kane's side. Widespread, half-suppressed sensation.

CITY EDITOR Mr. Kane, this is a surprise!

KANE We've got a nice plant here.

Everybody falls silent. There isn't anything to say.

KANE Was the show covered by every department?

CITY EDITOR Exactly according to your instructions, Mr. Kane. We've got two spreads of pictures.

KANE (very, very casually) And the notice?

CITY EDITOR Yes - Mr. Kane.

KANE (quietly) Is it good?

CITY EDITOR Yes, Mr. kane.

Kane looks at him for a minute.

CITY EDITOR But there's another one still to come - the dramatic notice.

KANE (sharply) It isn't finished?

CITY EDITOR No, Mr. Kane.

KANE That's Leland, isn't it?

CITY EDITOR Yes, Mr. Kane.

KANE Has he said when he'll finish?

CITY EDITOR We haven't heard from him.

KANE He used to work fast - didn't he, Mr. Bernstein?

BERNSTEIN He sure did, Mr. Kane.

KANE Where is he?

ANOTHER HIRELING Right in there, Mr. Kane.

The Hireling indicates the closed glass door of a little office at the other end of the City Room. Kane takes it in.

BERNSTEIN (helpless, but very concerned) MR. KANE -

KANE That's all right, Mr. Bernstein.

Kane crosses the length of the long City Room to the glass door indicated before by the Hireling. The City Editor looks at Bernstein. Kane opens the door and goes into the office, closing the door behind him.

BERNSTEIN Leland and Mr. Kane - they haven't spoke together for ten years. (long pause; finally) Excuse me. (starts toward the door)

INT. LELAND'S OFFICE - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT -

Bernstein comes in. An empty bottle is standing on Leland's desk. He has fallen over his typewriter, his face on the keys. A sheet of paper is in the machine. A paragraph has been typed. Kane is standing at the other side of the desk looking down on him. This is the first time we see murder in Kane's face. Bernstein looks at Kane, then crosses to Leland. He shakes him.

BERNSTEIN Hey, Brad! Brad! (he straightens, looks at Kane; pause) He ain't been drinking before, Mr. Kane. Never. We would have heard.

KANE (finally; after a pause) What does it say there?

Bernstein stares at him.

KANE What's he written?

Bernstein looks over nearsightedly, painfully reading the paragraph written on the page.

BERNSTEIN (reading) "Miss Susan Alexander, a pretty but hopelessly incompetent amateur - (he waits for a minute to catch his breath; he doesn't like it) - last night opened the new Chicago Opera House in a performance of - of -" (looks up miserably) I can't pronounce that name, Mr. Kane.

KANE Thais.

Bernstein looks at Kane for a moment, then looks back, tortured.

BERNSTEIN (reading again) "Her singing, happily, is no concern of this department. Of her acting, it is absolutely impossible to..." (he continues to stare at the page)

KANE (after a short silence) Go on!

BERNSTEIN (without looking up) That's all there is.

Kane snatches the paper from the roller and reads it for himself. Slowly, a queer look comes over his face. Then he speaks, very quietly.

KANE Of her acting, it is absolutely impossible to say anything except that it represents a new low... (then sharply) Have you got that, Mr. Bernstein? In the opinion of this reviewer -

BERNSTEIN (miserably) I didn't see that.

KANE It isn't here, Mr. Bernstein. I'm dictating it.

BERNSTEIN (looks at him) I can't take shorthand.

KANE Get me a typewriter. I'll finish the notice.

Bernstein retreats from the room.

QUICK DISSOLVE OUT:

QUICK DISSOLVE IN:

INT. LELAND'S OFFICE - CHICAGO ENQUIRER - NIGHT -

Long shot of Kane in his shirt sleeves, illuminated by a desk light, typing furiously. As the camera starts to pull even farther away from this, and as Bernstein - as narrator - begins to speak -

QUICK DISSOLVE:

INT. BERNSTEIN'S OFFICE - DAY -

Bernstein speaking to Thompson.

BERNSTEIN He finished it. He wrote the worst notice I ever read about the girl he loved. We ran it in every paper.

THOMPSON (after a pause) I guess Mr. Kane didn't think so well of Susie's art anyway.

BERNSTEIN (looks at him very soberly) He thought she was great, Mr. Thompson. He really believed that. He put all his ambition on that girl. After she came along, he never really cared for himself like he used to. Oh, I don't blame Susie -

THOMPSON Well, then, how could he write that roast? The notices in the Kane papers were always very kind to her.

BERNSTEIN Oh, yes. He saw to that. I tell you, Mr. Thompson, he was a hard man to figure out. He had that funny sense of humor. And then, too, maybe he thought by finishing that piece he could show Leland he was an honest man. You see, Leland didn't think so. I guess he showed him all right. He's a nice fellow, but he's a dreamer. They were always together in those early days when we just started the Enquirer.

On these last words, we

DISSOLVE:

INT. CITY ROOM - ENQUIRER BUILDING - DAY -

The front half of the second floor constitutes one large City Room. Despite the brilliant sunshine outside, very little of it is actually getting into the room because the windows are small and narrow. There are about a dozen tables and desks, of the old-fashioned type, not flat, available for reporters. Two tables, on a raised platform at the end of the room, obviously serve the city room executives. To the left of the platform is an open door which leads into the Sanctrum.

As Kane and Leland enter the room, an elderly, stout gent on the raised platform, strikes a bell and the other eight occupants of the room - all men - rise and face the new arrivals. Carter, the elderly gent, in formal clothes, rises and starts toward them.

CARTER Welcome, Mr. Kane, to the "Enquirer." I am Herbert Carter.

KANE Thank you, Mr Carter. This is Mr. Leland.

CARTER (bowing) How do you do, Mr. Leland?

KANE (pointing to the standing reporters) Are they standing for me?

CARTER I thought it would be a nice gesture the new publisher -

KANE (grinning) Ask them to sit down.

CARTER You may resume your work, gentlemen. (to Kane) I didn't know your plans and so I was unable to make any preparations.

KANE I don't my plans myself.

They are following Carter to his raised platform.

KANE As a matter of fact, I haven't got any. Except to get out a newspaper.

There i

White or not, Franco is just disgusting. Look at this pic.

Franco is not white and he is disgusting.

Whan that aprill with his shoures soote The droghte of march hath perced to the roote, And bathed every veyne in swich licour Of which vertu engendred is the flour; Whan zephirus eek with his sweete breeth Inspired hath in every holt and heeth Tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne Hath in the ram his halve cours yronne, And smale foweles maken melodye, That slepen al the nyght with open ye (so priketh hem nature in hir corages); Thanne longen folk to goon on pilgrimages, And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes, To ferne halwes, kowthe in sondry londes; And specially from every shires ende Of engelond to caunterbury they wende, The hooly blisful martir for to seke, That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke. Bifil that in that seson on a day, In southwerk at the tabard as I lay Redy to wenden on my pilgrymage To caunterbury with ful devout corage, At nyght was come into that hostelrye Wel nyne and twenty in a compaignye, Of sondry folk, by aventure yfalle In felaweshipe, and pilgrimes were they alle, That toward caunterbury wolden ryde. The chambres and the stables weren wyde, And wel we weren esed atte beste. And shortly, whan the sonne was to reste, So hadde I spoken with hem everichon That I was of hir felaweshipe anon, And made forward erly for to ryse, To take oure wey ther as I yow devyse. But nathelees, whil I have tyme and space, Er that I ferther in this tale pace, Me thynketh it acordaunt to resoun To telle yow al the condicioun Of ech of hem, so as it semed me, And whiche they weren, and of what degree, And eek in what array that they were inne; And at a knyght than wol I first bigynne.

R164 = the whore of Bath.

Dave Franco is white but James Franco is not.

Franco's non-white brother, Dave.

OP is a moron. Hon, you obviously don't understand race.

Latino is a short term for Latin American (people from the Americas who speak a Latin- based language). Brazilians, Cubans, Uruguayans, and Haitians are Latin American or Latino. A Portuguese person would not be any more Latino than a Spaniard. It is not applicable to just anyone from any country with Latin- based languages (French, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Rumanian)

Latinos can be of any race.

It drives me nuts because I know a Japanese man both his grandparents moved from Japan to Mexico, where they met other Japanese who were born in Japan and moved to Mexico.

He claims he's latino because his mother and father as well as himself, were born in Mexico.

I'm like there isn't a drop of Mexican blood in you. You're pure Japanese on all sides. But go figure.

What's this spammer's motivation?

And then she was hag with a knife in her back.

Bump.

I think the question should be why the OP thinks that James tries to pass as white (i.e. what dies "passing as white" mean to the OP? It is documented on wikipedia what James' heritage is.

I myself have done a DNA test. As a mixed race person, I was surprised to see how little DNA traces that I have got from the African continent. My heritage covers literally all "races", including Asian up until Ashkenazi Jew.

I would have hoped that we came a long way since the 1960', but Geroge Floyd obviously has brought global attention to the systemic racism that people (the majority reference cultures) try to brush off.

watch "Imitation of Life" 1959. The story actually involves about a mixed race girl, trying to pass for white. With dire consequence..... a very sad movie

check out this list, kinda makes this thread obsolete ;)

the 1934 version of "Imitation of Life" is just as heart wrenching and ahead of its time as the 1959 version, sobbed just about as much :(

they should make another remake of that movie, I think we still need to reflect on this

shawn and marlon wayans

Donald Trump. He is orange and his acting in The Apprentice was very poor

I always thought Michael Hutchence was mixed race, or part Maori, but I can’t find anything about that.

If you look White, you're White. It has nothing to do with where you are from (not just Europe) and it also doesn't matter if you are mixed race/biracial (White Latin Americans for example, who are often mixed race with Indigenous or African ancestry).

People freak out about this because they think the only discrimination that exists in the U.S. is racism, when ethnic prejudice can be just as harmful.

Don Cheadle. Thread closed.

there is no "white" in skin colour........ this is the biggest misconception of all! no matter how ghost like "hite" you may appear, you will never reach the white color code

the next closes would be grey.... but then you are dead lol

not even Geishas can pull it off ;)

quite frankly, I do not see what the fuss abaout this white obsession is. most people go tanning during the sunny days, kinda goes against wanting to be white IMO?

no white supremacy for red necks? :(

it's funny how the debate about Meghan Markle evolved about her being negro. I personally thought she was just an American with European heritage (maybe a little Spain and Italy added to the spice). As for Kamala Harris, I predominantly see the Asian side, less the Afro (keeping in mind, Jamaicans already have a very mixed heritage, including a significant part of Asian roots, due to intermingling with Asian workers on the island).

guess it all lays in the eye of the beholder.

R187

love franco's dick though...

Hattie McDaniel

R187 Allegedly Meghan Markle listed herself as white in College, was in a white sorority and referred to her mother as her family's nanny. She only began referring to herself as biracial when the casting director for Suits (who was also biracial) asked her about her complexion.

R189, there was a thread about that pic years ago. Isn’t it a fake?

Johnathon Schaech