Ants are small animals that live in anthills. They have a lot of legs and there are usually a lot of them living together. Ants sometimes invade houses and eat their food.
Ants are small ants are nice ants like to carry food back Thier home and then they share around with each other like a family of 20000000000 million people and they all have a different job to do.
When I was about 6 years old I saw an episode of Tarzan in which he was threatened by Soldier Ants. Later that summer I came across an anthill with thousands of the fu**ers and had my one and only bout of hysteria. I hate ants.
there are so many ants in my dorm room
although i preach coexistence
by instinct
i continue to kill them
as i feel them climb upon my skin
my desk
or my bed
wouldn’t you do the same?
does practicality make me hypocritical?
are my ideals impractical?
Small, We are giants to them. for them the world is so much bigger. Never burnt one. they are a kind and even species. haha Amber -> sorry for all that.. :D
those frickin annoying things that always climb on you and just eat everything. then they start making you paranoid because you keep feeling their little legs going up and down your legs and such. and then they go to your house looking for food and that sucks.
Have you ever met an ant you didn’t like? Or that you did? A whole colony of them? Heh, like that time you sat on their hill in the sandbox. Boy…you had the funniest look on your face. Gives a whole new image to “ants in your pants.”
There were ants on Steven’s front porch today as I sat with him to wait for my pick up car to arrive. One of them bit my foot in two places and now it itches. Last weekend my family and I visited our new property and the ants couldn’t get me through my thick socks but I forgot bug spray so the mosquitos had their way with my arm. :C
When I was little I used to play this game with the ants in my backyard based off the survivor tv show. It was really awful. Most of them died, the big fat guys always live longer than the ity bity ones and the red ones always died first. It usually consisted of starving them and keeping them in a bucket of water with a couple of rocks.
An ant crawled along the picnic table. It was anxiously searching for scraps, left over by the humans as they celebrated one of their many holidays. Finally, a source of sugar was located, and the ant (carrying some on its back) headed home, leaving a trail of pheromones in its wake.
This tiny ant. Trying ts hardest to crawl as fast as it can. To make it home out of the rain and feed its fellow comrades who work so hard to get the necessities of life. Without thinking. Only doing. And it is not the water that stops him. Nor the grass or dirt or predators or thoughts of doubt. It is a foot, a shoe to be more precise. On its way home from school.
ants are pretty flippin sweet lil critters. sometimes i wish i was an ant because then i could just eat delicious potato chips of the ground. I would only have to eat like one chip too. I would not like the queen though, I would challenge that bitch.
i love ants. they’re so little and cute, but also hard-working. sometimes i just lay down on the sidewalk and watch them march along to finish all the work needed for that day. i love seeing crumbs on their backs, or maybe even an injured friend that they need to bring home to take care of.
Small, the ant looked up at the blade of grass before it. The water droplet magnifying the bright sunlight, bending the smooth surface before its eyes. Nothing was more beautiful, than the view an ant had, of a water droplet in the sun.
I felt like an ant. They didn’t stop teasing me for a solid ten minutes. I know because I could see the clock from where I was standing. It felt so much longer than ten minutes. Maybe tonight I’ll get the courage to end the pain. It’ll only take 20 pills, after all.
In thousands they blur your vision, darting around each other, never stopping to pass pleasantries. This continues until you snap out of your trance and think to turn off the television screen.
this summer while laying in the back yard.. if it’s even considered that.. it’s so small. I was tanning trying to get some bronze-ness in my skin tone and .. ants. they were everywhere. grosses me out to feel them crawling up my leg while i’m just listening to my music. i’d fall asleep for a little bit and would think it was my creepy russian neighbors feeling me up. awkward.
this summer while laying in the back yard.. if it’s even considered that.. it’s so small. I was tanning trying to get some bronze-ness in my skin tone and .. ants. they were everywhere. grosses me out to feel them crawling up my leg while i’m just listening to my music. i’d fall asleep for a little bit to think it was my creepy russian neighbors feeling me up. awk.
The boy say on his knees in the grass under a shady tree at the park. His little sister was cross-legged beside him. The two children leaned together, looking intently at something on the ground. It was a little hill of dirt. The boy pointed at the dirt, explaining to his sister what lived there. Ants, he told her. The little girl looked at him, very seriously, and paid close attention as the older boy explained hundreds of facts about the tiny workers.
One must always remember that there are many ants within our world, but what of the world that they see? How do these tiny little things survive when we, the gigantic beings, always seem to crush them under our thunderous footfalls? We all should take a lesson from these tiny teachers, and maybe then the world wouldn’t seem to come crashing down on us.
Out of the sun, deep underground, surrounded by my comrades in work I questioned my existence. I asked myself, as innocently as I could, am I number one? Then I chittered and laughed and my brethren laughed with me. I loved them, they loved me and we worked until the end. We’re ants, that’s why.
creaturs of the subterrean world; imganings from sci-fi. highly organised and often aggressive ants are one of natures hard workers. they’re small but mighty.
The tiny little insect crawled along the precipice – unsure of which way to go, for all ways seemed to point down, and that was not an option. So on he went, trying hard not to look down, but it was too late.
The ant was terrible to behold. Each footstep of its segmented form echoed across the dusty linoleum like thunder and I knew that if I wasn’t quick it would carry me away.
ants in many sizes. the ants i’ve known are always small ones, black, working diligently. they looked rather pretty to a kid’s eye. but later i learned there are ants in amazon or somewhere that attack humans and animals to kill them. that’s when i learned that you can’t underestimate those tiny creatures.
i am only an ant. as i see you flying away you beautiful butterfly i wish to be like you. i scamper while you fly away across the endless sky beautiful and continuous.
It was a horrible itch. Clearly out of the normal since it was such a recurring itch. Then again, you can never tell what is causing an itch unless you inspect it. Until now-however, I had found a happy medium between the need to inspect it and the familiarity with this specific itch. It was an ant, and it was soon to be dead. Goodnight sweet prince.
i’ve been killing bugs in my basement apartment lately. i worry that my home is like the kgb building i saw in moscow – once you come in, you don’t come out, but instead of being for people, it’s for bugs. i feel bad about being a bug killer, but they gross me out & scare me SO MUCH. the ants aren’t so bad; it’s more the house centipedes – wayy too fast with too many legs. next time, i’ll try to capture them and put them outside instead of being a murderer, i promise.
As a person he was only an ant. A small, insignificant spec in the whole scheme of things. His ideas though, they transcend his state of being into something bigger. Something more. And with his ideas, he brought about a change. A change within himself and each and everyone he encountered.
Here we go again….I thought as he started his “Vanessa…I think we need to talk…” speech. I’d heard it a hundred zillion times. Okay, not quite a hundred zillion. But enough that I know what’s coming next. He’s going to break up with me. Again. And then we’ll get back together in a few weeks. Why can’t we just either stay together or break apart?
Natman… selle de veille reste en
friction de faux saum
on le tendre hiver n’aye
z crainte
s si le bonnet de form
e n’en lu, cas de vip, le sentinelles
de Virgile large rampe d
e l’étroite Pise. Soufflet de rives = e
st âne de bat-homm
they swarmed, like an army. The fire ants were intent on their prey: me. I hadn’t known what I was getting into when I said that I would retrieve my crush’s dropped pencil.
Ants are so small and come in so many. They seem so obsolete, and we destroy their lives for no apparent reason.
But why are they here? Do they promote the idea that everyone and everything has a job to do and a life to live? Who are we to end it all for them, when we could be 6.5 billion ants to something else?
Ants are small animals that live in anthills. They have a lot of legs and there are usually a lot of them living together. Ants sometimes invade houses and eat their food.
Ants are small ants are nice ants like to carry food back Thier home and then they share around with each other like a family of 20000000000 million people and they all have a different job to do.
When I was about 6 years old I saw an episode of Tarzan in which he was threatened by Soldier Ants. Later that summer I came across an anthill with thousands of the fu**ers and had my one and only bout of hysteria. I hate ants.
there are so many ants in my dorm room
although i preach coexistence
by instinct
i continue to kill them
as i feel them climb upon my skin
my desk
or my bed
wouldn’t you do the same?
does practicality make me hypocritical?
are my ideals impractical?
Small, We are giants to them. for them the world is so much bigger. Never burnt one. they are a kind and even species. haha Amber -> sorry for all that.. :D
The ants go marching one by one — hurrah, hurrah.
those frickin annoying things that always climb on you and just eat everything. then they start making you paranoid because you keep feeling their little legs going up and down your legs and such. and then they go to your house looking for food and that sucks.
Have you ever met an ant you didn’t like? Or that you did? A whole colony of them? Heh, like that time you sat on their hill in the sandbox. Boy…you had the funniest look on your face. Gives a whole new image to “ants in your pants.”
left. right. left. right.
following one by one.
they go marching
across the barren landscape
of my driveway.
carrying thousands of pounds
upon their backs
working together as a unit
to serve the rest.
the ants are anticipating analytically degenerate anecdotes with ann marie.
There were ants on Steven’s front porch today as I sat with him to wait for my pick up car to arrive. One of them bit my foot in two places and now it itches. Last weekend my family and I visited our new property and the ants couldn’t get me through my thick socks but I forgot bug spray so the mosquitos had their way with my arm. :C
Such a small animal.
Always getting stepped on.
People try to kill it.
But it always finds a way to survive.
When I was little I used to play this game with the ants in my backyard based off the survivor tv show. It was really awful. Most of them died, the big fat guys always live longer than the ity bity ones and the red ones always died first. It usually consisted of starving them and keeping them in a bucket of water with a couple of rocks.
An ant crawled along the picnic table. It was anxiously searching for scraps, left over by the humans as they celebrated one of their many holidays. Finally, a source of sugar was located, and the ant (carrying some on its back) headed home, leaving a trail of pheromones in its wake.
This tiny ant. Trying ts hardest to crawl as fast as it can. To make it home out of the rain and feed its fellow comrades who work so hard to get the necessities of life. Without thinking. Only doing. And it is not the water that stops him. Nor the grass or dirt or predators or thoughts of doubt. It is a foot, a shoe to be more precise. On its way home from school.
ants are pretty flippin sweet lil critters. sometimes i wish i was an ant because then i could just eat delicious potato chips of the ground. I would only have to eat like one chip too. I would not like the queen though, I would challenge that bitch.
i love ants. they’re so little and cute, but also hard-working. sometimes i just lay down on the sidewalk and watch them march along to finish all the work needed for that day. i love seeing crumbs on their backs, or maybe even an injured friend that they need to bring home to take care of.
Small, the ant looked up at the blade of grass before it. The water droplet magnifying the bright sunlight, bending the smooth surface before its eyes. Nothing was more beautiful, than the view an ant had, of a water droplet in the sun.
I felt like an ant. They didn’t stop teasing me for a solid ten minutes. I know because I could see the clock from where I was standing. It felt so much longer than ten minutes. Maybe tonight I’ll get the courage to end the pain. It’ll only take 20 pills, after all.
We move along.Knowing everything is fine.Ten pounds.Ten pounds.Ten pounds.
In thousands they blur your vision, darting around each other, never stopping to pass pleasantries. This continues until you snap out of your trance and think to turn off the television screen.
this summer while laying in the back yard.. if it’s even considered that.. it’s so small. I was tanning trying to get some bronze-ness in my skin tone and .. ants. they were everywhere. grosses me out to feel them crawling up my leg while i’m just listening to my music. i’d fall asleep for a little bit and would think it was my creepy russian neighbors feeling me up. awkward.
this summer while laying in the back yard.. if it’s even considered that.. it’s so small. I was tanning trying to get some bronze-ness in my skin tone and .. ants. they were everywhere. grosses me out to feel them crawling up my leg while i’m just listening to my music. i’d fall asleep for a little bit to think it was my creepy russian neighbors feeling me up. awk.
The boy say on his knees in the grass under a shady tree at the park. His little sister was cross-legged beside him. The two children leaned together, looking intently at something on the ground. It was a little hill of dirt. The boy pointed at the dirt, explaining to his sister what lived there. Ants, he told her. The little girl looked at him, very seriously, and paid close attention as the older boy explained hundreds of facts about the tiny workers.
One must always remember that there are many ants within our world, but what of the world that they see? How do these tiny little things survive when we, the gigantic beings, always seem to crush them under our thunderous footfalls? We all should take a lesson from these tiny teachers, and maybe then the world wouldn’t seem to come crashing down on us.
Out of the sun, deep underground, surrounded by my comrades in work I questioned my existence. I asked myself, as innocently as I could, am I number one? Then I chittered and laughed and my brethren laughed with me. I loved them, they loved me and we worked until the end. We’re ants, that’s why.
creaturs of the subterrean world; imganings from sci-fi. highly organised and often aggressive ants are one of natures hard workers. they’re small but mighty.
the scene between joseph cotton and orson welles.
The tiny little insect crawled along the precipice – unsure of which way to go, for all ways seemed to point down, and that was not an option. So on he went, trying hard not to look down, but it was too late.
The ant was terrible to behold. Each footstep of its segmented form echoed across the dusty linoleum like thunder and I knew that if I wasn’t quick it would carry me away.
ants in many sizes. the ants i’ve known are always small ones, black, working diligently. they looked rather pretty to a kid’s eye. but later i learned there are ants in amazon or somewhere that attack humans and animals to kill them. that’s when i learned that you can’t underestimate those tiny creatures.
Tiny little specks.
Appear delicate; o contrair.
Powerful creatures.
i am only an ant. as i see you flying away you beautiful butterfly i wish to be like you. i scamper while you fly away across the endless sky beautiful and continuous.
It was a horrible itch. Clearly out of the normal since it was such a recurring itch. Then again, you can never tell what is causing an itch unless you inspect it. Until now-however, I had found a happy medium between the need to inspect it and the familiarity with this specific itch. It was an ant, and it was soon to be dead. Goodnight sweet prince.
i’ve been killing bugs in my basement apartment lately. i worry that my home is like the kgb building i saw in moscow – once you come in, you don’t come out, but instead of being for people, it’s for bugs. i feel bad about being a bug killer, but they gross me out & scare me SO MUCH. the ants aren’t so bad; it’s more the house centipedes – wayy too fast with too many legs. next time, i’ll try to capture them and put them outside instead of being a murderer, i promise.
As a person he was only an ant. A small, insignificant spec in the whole scheme of things. His ideas though, they transcend his state of being into something bigger. Something more. And with his ideas, he brought about a change. A change within himself and each and everyone he encountered.
Here we go again….I thought as he started his “Vanessa…I think we need to talk…” speech. I’d heard it a hundred zillion times. Okay, not quite a hundred zillion. But enough that I know what’s coming next. He’s going to break up with me. Again. And then we’ll get back together in a few weeks. Why can’t we just either stay together or break apart?
Natman… selle de veille reste en
friction de faux saum
on le tendre hiver n’aye
z crainte
s si le bonnet de form
e n’en lu, cas de vip, le sentinelles
de Virgile large rampe d
e l’étroite Pise. Soufflet de rives = e
st âne de bat-homm
they swarmed, like an army. The fire ants were intent on their prey: me. I hadn’t known what I was getting into when I said that I would retrieve my crush’s dropped pencil.
Ants are so small and come in so many. They seem so obsolete, and we destroy their lives for no apparent reason.
But why are they here? Do they promote the idea that everyone and everything has a job to do and a life to live? Who are we to end it all for them, when we could be 6.5 billion ants to something else?