The arrow shot across the meadow and landed with a thunk into the side of the barrel.
Blake slowly lowered the bow with a slight smile of satisfaction. Finally, after months of practice, he could tell Kar that he managed to hit something.
Kar had always believed he could do it, he was the one who had doubted. Maybe the pale creature who spent hours showing him the correct way to hold a bow and who constantly reminded him with disbelief to close one eye, would say Blake was ready.
a barrel of rum is the only way to drink it. get fucked up or go home i always say and rum is the very best way to do that. Theses barrels also come in handy if you’re ever lost at see because they float mutherfucker they float.
Over the falls, nothing but the rushing water and the sound of rocks hitting the wood and metal encasing whatever precious cargo is being carried. Over we go…
Somehow, I don’t find it important, but it isn’t ignorance. It’s apathy.
barrels contain lots of things, fish spring to mind, shooting barrels in a fish easy, fish in a barrel, barrels on pirate ships where they keep their food, barrels are handy havent seen one in a while though
there was a barrel that was red that all the kids used to play in. and then one day a kid got stuck and screamed for help, he couldn’t get any attention, thirty days passed and he was still stuck.
I already wrote about a freaking barrel what the hell. But I guess I could go on and on. What comes to mind is the movie El Dorado because they hid in barrels while they were on the ship trying to get somewhere but then they stole a boat and ended up on an island it was so great.
move that over, ren. yes the barrel. ok, a little to the left…no, the other left…watch out for the …! wet spot…ok…got it…ok, back to the left…stil wrong ren…no…no! oh, blast it all give me that…oh, shut up, what wet spo-!?
I really thought I would get a more interesting word but oh well. I liek barrrels because they’re made out of wood. I would use one to store excess clothing in my bedroom because I think that would look beautiful. Ah, yes a nice hamper as a barrel…or wait what
she was looking down the barrel of a gun and the only thing she could think of was that she might have left the tv on at home. “Don’t move, give me all the cash,” he said. What an ordinary way to die, she’d never have thought..
its a pirate ship, and there are barrels but inside the barrels, is air, air so precious that it had to be shipped from port to port,until its records of it were completely gone. complete and pure oxygen was hard to come by. this could save lives, but it had only destroyed them in the fight to owning them.
in the barrel there were seventy-six monkeys. you might not think about the character of each crammed monkey, but they are very complex and mostly unhappy. one might think they like being squished up like that, seeing as that is their purpose, but they are unhaooy little creatures. they long to get out and experience the world just like a housewife sometimes gazes out the window as she mechanically scrubs the soapy dishes and wonders where sh
I am stuck inside a barrel and I am frightened. If i had you here it wouldn’t be as torturous, in fact it would be fun. I wish you were here it’s so cold and dark, so now would be the moment for you to barge in and as ridiculous as it is be in a barrel with me.
i am over a barrel, now what the hell is that supposed to mean – you’ve got me over a barrel, I know that it means you’ve got me in a position where i can’t compromise, but what’s with the barrel metaphor – i dont kow – i am also thinking about going over niagara falls in a barrel
I’m like a barrel rolling down a hill, bumping into things. I can’t tell where I’m going or where I just was. All I know is that.. I’m tumbling.
And in my dreams I’m on fire.
barrels are brown and wooden, they are heavy and they have metal around them and i don’t think i’ve ever seen a barrel in real life before. there were a bunch of barrels in the fight seen in shrek. shrek is a good movie, you should watch it. barrels are spel
Two barrels pointing down at me. One way ticket to dead man. I could breath. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t care. Nothing mattered and those barrels where going to prove it too me. What are you waiting for? I havnt got all day. Finish it.
Lying to himself was becoming as easy as shooting fish in a barrel. It was all to familiar for him to look in the eyes of a young girl pleading for her life and tell himself that he didn’t care.
It’s empty. You knock at the sides and it makes a hollow sound. Maybe you could hide inside and they’s never catch you. Maybe you could finally go see the Niagara falls.
he was found holding the barrel, why did he have to be the one caught with it? He wasn’t even invited to the party, everyone else is gone and here He is holding the barrel. What will happen now? He’ll lose his starting position on the team and the championship game is coming up next week.
the barrel of the gun pressed against her head, the cold metal was a a sharp reminder of the finality of the moment. this was not how she planned on beginning the new year. but dying on the first of the year had a bit of romance to it
The barrel was full of large green apples. the freshest apples around. in that old broken down barrel held some of the best apples in the county, probably the state. and that old barrel belonged to old man cob, the local orchard owner. Along with being the owner of the orchird and the barrel and its bounty he was the local gossiper and story teller on late nights at the inn.
Russia frowned as America barreled into him, knocking both nations over.
“Amerika, you are getting too fat.” he grunted as he pushed the younger nation off.
America ignored the jab about his weight, instead babbling about some monster or some other nonsense. Russia ignored the other man until he felt the air around him cool considerably.
“Amerkia-?” was all he got out before a grey Thing came out of now where.
~Full version can be found on my tumblr: tchakladar.tumblr.com
Russia frowned as America barreled into him, knocking both nations over.
“Amerika, you are getting too fat.” he grunted as he pushed the younger nation off.
America ignored the jab about his weight, instead babbling about some monster or some other nonsense. Russia ignored the other man until he felt the air around him cool considerably.
“Amerkia-?” was all he got out before a grey Thing came out of now where.
The barrels of wine lined the walls of our cellar. The cellar was my own secret hiding place. Here is where I brought all my secrets, where I felt the safest. Beyond the barrels there was a scary and unsafe world. But enclosed by these barrels nothing could go awry.
The most delicious things come in barrels. Wine, beer, whisky. Aged in wood, carefully nurtured until they reach the bottle. The best whiskies are matured in old sherry barrels, did you know that?
I couldn’t find any greater place than this
The boys followed Mr. Marcus into the garage, hoping that the wonders of a fully equipped shop would await them
While we, the girls, sat on whiskey barrels in the courtyard.
Filling a barrel with explosive materials isn’t something you get the opportunity to do very often, at least I don’t, being normal and all, so I jumped at it. Not the explosive barrel, the chance to fill it with the exploding stuff. Despite the awareness of the potential danger of sending my face in fifty different directions at once, it was a bit of a let down. It was hard work, much like loading anything else into a barrel really, except with a chance of blowing my face a full fifty ways from Sunday. Some people might like the thrill, adrenaline junkies like bungee jumpers and such. They’d probably enjoy it more than I did. Maybe it should become an ‘x-treme’ sport; barrel filling, the TNT edition. I can see a TV market for that, definitely.
there was a boy in a barrel. he liked the smell of the wood. there were once apples in the barrel. by once, I, of course, mean, yesterday. But he ate them today. so now he is on his own. no apples, only the smell of wood. and the music in his head. he sometimes sings to himself. for no particular reason, only because it’s something to do besides think.
barrel. whiskey. todays word should be hangover. thats all i can think. drink. drank. drunk. dead…….. blank. barrel. fine, ill bite. round, wooden, ages nicely a good whiskey. whiskey barrel. hangover. done.
big brown rolling down a hill, watch out it willl hit you ahh yelled john as he jumped in the hay to avoid geting wine on his new slacks that his aunt betty bought him for church …it finally hit the barn ruining the new paint and wasting all those grapes we picked to make our famous greentoe wine from white pine …dads gonna kill us
Circular. Brown. Rolls. Starts with a ‘b’. Part of the name of a restaurant. Holds things inside. Hollow. Tall.
The arrow shot across the meadow and landed with a thunk into the side of the barrel.
Blake slowly lowered the bow with a slight smile of satisfaction. Finally, after months of practice, he could tell Kar that he managed to hit something.
Kar had always believed he could do it, he was the one who had doubted. Maybe the pale creature who spent hours showing him the correct way to hold a bow and who constantly reminded him with disbelief to close one eye, would say Blake was ready.
He felt ready.
a barrel of rum is the only way to drink it. get fucked up or go home i always say and rum is the very best way to do that. Theses barrels also come in handy if you’re ever lost at see because they float mutherfucker they float.
No. I don’t want to write about barrels. I already did.
Over the falls, nothing but the rushing water and the sound of rocks hitting the wood and metal encasing whatever precious cargo is being carried. Over we go…
Somehow, I don’t find it important, but it isn’t ignorance. It’s apathy.
barrels contain lots of things, fish spring to mind, shooting barrels in a fish easy, fish in a barrel, barrels on pirate ships where they keep their food, barrels are handy havent seen one in a while though
My thought were rolling around in my head, almost as if they were in a barrel. I couldn’t stop thinking about whether I made the right choice or not.
there was a barrel that was red that all the kids used to play in. and then one day a kid got stuck and screamed for help, he couldn’t get any attention, thirty days passed and he was still stuck.
I already wrote about a freaking barrel what the hell. But I guess I could go on and on. What comes to mind is the movie El Dorado because they hid in barrels while they were on the ship trying to get somewhere but then they stole a boat and ended up on an island it was so great.
move that over, ren. yes the barrel. ok, a little to the left…no, the other left…watch out for the …! wet spot…ok…got it…ok, back to the left…stil wrong ren…no…no! oh, blast it all give me that…oh, shut up, what wet spo-!?
I really thought I would get a more interesting word but oh well. I liek barrrels because they’re made out of wood. I would use one to store excess clothing in my bedroom because I think that would look beautiful. Ah, yes a nice hamper as a barrel…or wait what
she was looking down the barrel of a gun and the only thing she could think of was that she might have left the tv on at home. “Don’t move, give me all the cash,” he said. What an ordinary way to die, she’d never have thought..
its a pirate ship, and there are barrels but inside the barrels, is air, air so precious that it had to be shipped from port to port,until its records of it were completely gone. complete and pure oxygen was hard to come by. this could save lives, but it had only destroyed them in the fight to owning them.
Barrel. Barrels are what Ariel in the little mermaid used to get to the ship. They are tools to use on your way to love.
monkeys in a barrel is pretty much the only expression that is relevant for the word or perhaps the barrel of a gun. In some cases guns can hold
in the barrel there were seventy-six monkeys. you might not think about the character of each crammed monkey, but they are very complex and mostly unhappy. one might think they like being squished up like that, seeing as that is their purpose, but they are unhaooy little creatures. they long to get out and experience the world just like a housewife sometimes gazes out the window as she mechanically scrubs the soapy dishes and wonders where sh
I am stuck inside a barrel and I am frightened. If i had you here it wouldn’t be as torturous, in fact it would be fun. I wish you were here it’s so cold and dark, so now would be the moment for you to barge in and as ridiculous as it is be in a barrel with me.
i am over a barrel, now what the hell is that supposed to mean – you’ve got me over a barrel, I know that it means you’ve got me in a position where i can’t compromise, but what’s with the barrel metaphor – i dont kow – i am also thinking about going over niagara falls in a barrel
don’t live life in a barrel
I’m like a barrel rolling down a hill, bumping into things. I can’t tell where I’m going or where I just was. All I know is that.. I’m tumbling.
And in my dreams I’m on fire.
barrels are brown and wooden, they are heavy and they have metal around them and i don’t think i’ve ever seen a barrel in real life before. there were a bunch of barrels in the fight seen in shrek. shrek is a good movie, you should watch it. barrels are spel
Two barrels pointing down at me. One way ticket to dead man. I could breath. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t care. Nothing mattered and those barrels where going to prove it too me. What are you waiting for? I havnt got all day. Finish it.
Lying to himself was becoming as easy as shooting fish in a barrel. It was all to familiar for him to look in the eyes of a young girl pleading for her life and tell himself that he didn’t care.
It’s empty. You knock at the sides and it makes a hollow sound. Maybe you could hide inside and they’s never catch you. Maybe you could finally go see the Niagara falls.
he was found holding the barrel, why did he have to be the one caught with it? He wasn’t even invited to the party, everyone else is gone and here He is holding the barrel. What will happen now? He’ll lose his starting position on the team and the championship game is coming up next week.
the barrel of the gun pressed against her head, the cold metal was a a sharp reminder of the finality of the moment. this was not how she planned on beginning the new year. but dying on the first of the year had a bit of romance to it
The barrel was full of large green apples. the freshest apples around. in that old broken down barrel held some of the best apples in the county, probably the state. and that old barrel belonged to old man cob, the local orchard owner. Along with being the owner of the orchird and the barrel and its bounty he was the local gossiper and story teller on late nights at the inn.
Russia frowned as America barreled into him, knocking both nations over.
“Amerika, you are getting too fat.” he grunted as he pushed the younger nation off.
America ignored the jab about his weight, instead babbling about some monster or some other nonsense. Russia ignored the other man until he felt the air around him cool considerably.
“Amerkia-?” was all he got out before a grey Thing came out of now where.
~Full version can be found on my tumblr: tchakladar.tumblr.com
Russia frowned as America barreled into him, knocking both nations over.
“Amerika, you are getting too fat.” he grunted as he pushed the younger nation off.
America ignored the jab about his weight, instead babbling about some monster or some other nonsense. Russia ignored the other man until he felt the air around him cool considerably.
“Amerkia-?” was all he got out before a grey Thing came out of now where.
The barrels of wine lined the walls of our cellar. The cellar was my own secret hiding place. Here is where I brought all my secrets, where I felt the safest. Beyond the barrels there was a scary and unsafe world. But enclosed by these barrels nothing could go awry.
The most delicious things come in barrels. Wine, beer, whisky. Aged in wood, carefully nurtured until they reach the bottle. The best whiskies are matured in old sherry barrels, did you know that?
I couldn’t find any greater place than this
The boys followed Mr. Marcus into the garage, hoping that the wonders of a fully equipped shop would await them
While we, the girls, sat on whiskey barrels in the courtyard.
a barrel soars through the air. the insides slosh. around. some water flies out through the cracks. but mostly, the little boy inside is frightened
Filling a barrel with explosive materials isn’t something you get the opportunity to do very often, at least I don’t, being normal and all, so I jumped at it. Not the explosive barrel, the chance to fill it with the exploding stuff. Despite the awareness of the potential danger of sending my face in fifty different directions at once, it was a bit of a let down. It was hard work, much like loading anything else into a barrel really, except with a chance of blowing my face a full fifty ways from Sunday. Some people might like the thrill, adrenaline junkies like bungee jumpers and such. They’d probably enjoy it more than I did. Maybe it should become an ‘x-treme’ sport; barrel filling, the TNT edition. I can see a TV market for that, definitely.
there was a boy in a barrel. he liked the smell of the wood. there were once apples in the barrel. by once, I, of course, mean, yesterday. But he ate them today. so now he is on his own. no apples, only the smell of wood. and the music in his head. he sometimes sings to himself. for no particular reason, only because it’s something to do besides think.
Barrels are no fun. Booo!
barrel. whiskey. todays word should be hangover. thats all i can think. drink. drank. drunk. dead…….. blank. barrel. fine, ill bite. round, wooden, ages nicely a good whiskey. whiskey barrel. hangover. done.
big brown rolling down a hill, watch out it willl hit you ahh yelled john as he jumped in the hay to avoid geting wine on his new slacks that his aunt betty bought him for church …it finally hit the barn ruining the new paint and wasting all those grapes we picked to make our famous greentoe wine from white pine …dads gonna kill us
Time slowed, hesitated for us, paused,
Stood still.
I looked down the barrel of your gun.
Is this how the clock stops for me?
the barrel of the gun was pointed at my forehead. I could feel the cold metal of the ring throughout my body. I was afraid