Fucking serious? I thought I was gonna get a new word but whatever. A canteen. Reminds me of the zoo I work at. We sell little canteens to for like 6 bucks each…and just generally reminds me of work. How boring and meaningless my job is, but it must be done in order to get money. And why do I need money? I need to pay bills…And endless vicious cycle.
I went to the watering hole to fill up my canteen when I saw him staring at me from a distance. I’d seen him here before but what was he up to this time? He smiled at me briefly before I grudgingly turned my back on him. “How dare he?” I thought. What a silly man. What a silly woman. What a silly canteen.
The desert have many wonderful things. If we all don’t just that the world can take care of itself without us interfering, then we are going to destroy this earth. When I say “we”, I mean humans. The animals (excluding us) were better off without us.
a canteen is only one of the things we carried that day. along with pictures of the ones we loved, and the hope that on the other side of that vast decay of world, there was something worth the trek, something to make it all a little better. in our canteens, we carried promise.
Canteens bring life. They are usually filled with water. And they are usually held by someone who needs water to survive. I’ve always wanted a flask. Which is like a canteen for BOOZE! I love booze.
my mouth was parched, and the canteen was the only thing keeping me going through the heat as it was. i knew there was only enough left for one mouthful, but delaying drinking it was my only hope at this point.
Canteen. It holds water, maybe our heart is like a canteen. It holds whats necessary for us to live…our feelings. if my heart was a canteen you would be my water. Too bad your leaving, leaving me without water in the desert…
reminds me of the death star. or of an eddie izzard skit. the death star canteen. it’s a bit funny. the death star also reminds me of this doctor who episode i’m watching atm. the master’s friends look like death stars! little tiny ones.
I sat in the hot sun. It was empty. I was surrounded by sand and his body lay on the ground. An ant crawled over his face. Not one ant now. Now it was a line of them.
They marched along, along his dried, crusted face. My canteen was empty.
She took the canteen in her hand. Please God, Please. One drop, and she would be able to push through. One drop of water would be enough. She shook it over her mouth. No water. There was no water. Anywhere. Goodbye, world.
A long time ago I used to be in Boy Scouts. Our summer trip one year was going on a camping trip in northern Texas. I remember it because it was one of the few fond memories I have of my father. We hiked most of the day, and finally came to a campsite on the side of the mountain. It was nice, and it was peaceful. Later that night, we were sitting around the dying campfire telling obligatory ghost stories, and I reached over to take a drink of my dad’s canteen. He told me not to, what he had in there wasn’t water. I didn’t know it at the time, but he was getting drunk off his ass on vodka, on his son’s Boy Scout camping trip. And that was my father. That was his norm. I’m undecided on having kids, as I highly doubt I’ll find someone to marry. But if I have a son, I’d like to think he wouldn’t have memories of me like that.
The unknown. No access to the dictionnary. How will its mystery ever be revealed? I know what it is though; I can feel it. Somewhere. A gourd? Water? Life? Symbolism?
Going through the dessert, it’s like an oasis at your side. An oasis of hope that you forget runs dry until the last bit of lush hydration runs down your throat. Suddenly, it’s hotter, the air seems closer to you and the regret of letting your oasis slip through your fingers sinks in.
I’ve never been to summer camp. That’s always been a sore spot for me. So many of my friends talk about the friends they made, how they matured, getting stoned and getting laid. I spent my summers trying desperately to fit into a family that never wanted me. Camp seemed the perfect get away, but they never let me go.
The canteen rested on the boulder. The boulder sat in the middle of the giant forest.
Peace enveloped the place.
No eyes except those of God’s creatures saw any of it, and none of them cared. Nothing was out of the ordinary. It had been sitting there for a while now. Those pestering humans had left it there.
But the animals made sure the humans would never come back.
the weather was hot and dry
it felt like sandpaper every time I tried to swallow
the grass was filled with dew
the leaves collecting water
quickly I filled my canteen with the cold elixir
Water carrier device. Keeps people hydrated. Keeps people alive when it is used properally used a lot in the desert and places like that. Helps people when they have no other supplies. Can be used for multiple different opitions. I use one of them while I run or bike or something like that. Is a huge help.
Canteen? No idea what it meant, I had to google it.
Well, cantine; fancy restaurant bla bla bla
I guess it’s just a place were people get pretty much fucked up and make some crazy shit.
Just like a bar.
I guess this form of thinking comes from an alcoholic dad.
He sipped the canteen, trying to get every last drop he could. The damned thing was hollow and didn’t do him any good. He tossed it aside, wiped the sweat from his brow and looked out over the desert, sad to see the rolling dunes. He muttered to himself as he started his long walk.
Camping, right? I think we used to have canteens when we went camping or hiking. Actually, hiking seems more accurate. We’d fill a big canteen with soup before climbing the mountain, and up at the top, there would always be a nice hot bowl of soup for everyone because the thing was so well fucking insulated. Usually it was homemade chicken soup.
when i was younger my dad and i used to go hiking a lot and i always thought he was so goofy for wanting to bring a canteen instead of a regular water bottle. he’s always liked to do things the old fashioned way and always will. we probably have about 5 canteens, too. i haven’t seen any of em in years.
the dryness taunted him. did he think that if he opened again and tried to drink that water would magically appear since the last time he tried and it was empty. it was turning into a harsh day,
this is something that will save your life if you are trapped in a desert with nothing but yourself and the wilderness, it can be made out of metal, plastic or anything of that sort, if it is made out of lead it would result in its user dying a slow death just like the romans did, I personally would like to have m
When i was a kid my dad had this canteen made out of wood. It was so pretty, it had a carving of a two headed eagle on it. And its feathers were carved out one by one. I use to love playing with it. I would but it around my waist with the braided rope that was attached and go out in the back yard and pretend to be an explKitt3nPawsorer.
It’s original purpose served me little, but the carved name on the side reminded of me of better days, sitting beneath a willow tree in my grandfather’s lap, listening to him sing old songs from his childhood, me clutching the sweet tea in the old war canteen.
I’ve already written about the canteen. Although, I guess I could just keep writing. The canteen… the canteen has overflowed with drinking water. What a waste!
I like the cool steel flavor of water from a canteen. Not the stale, plastic canteen water, but the metallic stainless steel ones. They remind me of camping as a child, using my older brothers old boy scout canteen. When I got older I left canteen’s behind for flasks. I like the idea of being a flask person. Liquor on the go!
the canteen was full of water. the following day, mother had emptied it. she said it had filled with flies and they were starting to get inside the house. everyday from then on, she would take the canteen and empty it.
I thought my canteen would explode, but I took a drink out of it anyway. To my surprise, it didn’t, but I ended up getting lead poisoning, unfortunately. To counter- act this, I wrote in my will to preserve my brain like Walt Disney on The Simpsons.
The Canteen was where we always got our food. It’s funny, now, because it burnt down. A canteen, it’s something that holds water, or any beverage, really. So a canteen, a water bottle, burnt down.
I remember Scott and I going there one night. It was after a fight, and we were dying of hunger and thirst. God, I’ll miss that place.
As he took a long drought from his canteen, he looked around at the scene surrounding him. Complete chaos and he wanted nothing more than to drink the night away worrying only about his next drink or the woman to be sleeping in his bed tonight.
Estaba en una cantina muriendo comiendo y cantando mientras misteriosamente saben qué no se qué significa canteen así que mejor voy a hablar de unos pedos que se echa mi vecina y que mágicamente vuelven a los unicornios a la vida, y no, no es verdad que cagan arcoiris, pero mi amigo gay si lo hace.
the canteen smelled like mold now — old and musty; just another thing falling apart. another old war memory that his wife would resent. he was stuck in the jungles; the screaming of bombs slicing through the humid air, steaming rain saturating his singed skin.
yo iba caminando por ahi mientras vi que se encontraba una cantina frente al camino sin mas ni menos me dispuse a entrar cuando se me acerco un viejo de un aspecto demasiado extraño como si estuviera drogado pero con alguna especie de droga alucinojena y me ofrecio cosas que obvio no acepte uy me recuse
Fucking serious? I thought I was gonna get a new word but whatever. A canteen. Reminds me of the zoo I work at. We sell little canteens to for like 6 bucks each…and just generally reminds me of work. How boring and meaningless my job is, but it must be done in order to get money. And why do I need money? I need to pay bills…And endless vicious cycle.
I went to the watering hole to fill up my canteen when I saw him staring at me from a distance. I’d seen him here before but what was he up to this time? He smiled at me briefly before I grudgingly turned my back on him. “How dare he?” I thought. What a silly man. What a silly woman. What a silly canteen.
The desert have many wonderful things. If we all don’t just that the world can take care of itself without us interfering, then we are going to destroy this earth. When I say “we”, I mean humans. The animals (excluding us) were better off without us.
a canteen is only one of the things we carried that day. along with pictures of the ones we loved, and the hope that on the other side of that vast decay of world, there was something worth the trek, something to make it all a little better. in our canteens, we carried promise.
Canteens bring life. They are usually filled with water. And they are usually held by someone who needs water to survive. I’ve always wanted a flask. Which is like a canteen for BOOZE! I love booze.
my mouth was parched, and the canteen was the only thing keeping me going through the heat as it was. i knew there was only enough left for one mouthful, but delaying drinking it was my only hope at this point.
Canteen. It holds water, maybe our heart is like a canteen. It holds whats necessary for us to live…our feelings. if my heart was a canteen you would be my water. Too bad your leaving, leaving me without water in the desert…
reminds me of the death star. or of an eddie izzard skit. the death star canteen. it’s a bit funny. the death star also reminds me of this doctor who episode i’m watching atm. the master’s friends look like death stars! little tiny ones.
Canteens exploaded in my car!
I sat in the hot sun. It was empty. I was surrounded by sand and his body lay on the ground. An ant crawled over his face. Not one ant now. Now it was a line of them.
They marched along, along his dried, crusted face. My canteen was empty.
She took the canteen in her hand. Please God, Please. One drop, and she would be able to push through. One drop of water would be enough. She shook it over her mouth. No water. There was no water. Anywhere. Goodbye, world.
A long time ago I used to be in Boy Scouts. Our summer trip one year was going on a camping trip in northern Texas. I remember it because it was one of the few fond memories I have of my father. We hiked most of the day, and finally came to a campsite on the side of the mountain. It was nice, and it was peaceful. Later that night, we were sitting around the dying campfire telling obligatory ghost stories, and I reached over to take a drink of my dad’s canteen. He told me not to, what he had in there wasn’t water. I didn’t know it at the time, but he was getting drunk off his ass on vodka, on his son’s Boy Scout camping trip. And that was my father. That was his norm. I’m undecided on having kids, as I highly doubt I’ll find someone to marry. But if I have a son, I’d like to think he wouldn’t have memories of me like that.
The unknown. No access to the dictionnary. How will its mystery ever be revealed? I know what it is though; I can feel it. Somewhere. A gourd? Water? Life? Symbolism?
Going through the dessert, it’s like an oasis at your side. An oasis of hope that you forget runs dry until the last bit of lush hydration runs down your throat. Suddenly, it’s hotter, the air seems closer to you and the regret of letting your oasis slip through your fingers sinks in.
I’ve never been to summer camp. That’s always been a sore spot for me. So many of my friends talk about the friends they made, how they matured, getting stoned and getting laid. I spent my summers trying desperately to fit into a family that never wanted me. Camp seemed the perfect get away, but they never let me go.
The canteen rested on the boulder. The boulder sat in the middle of the giant forest.
Peace enveloped the place.
No eyes except those of God’s creatures saw any of it, and none of them cared. Nothing was out of the ordinary. It had been sitting there for a while now. Those pestering humans had left it there.
But the animals made sure the humans would never come back.
the weather was hot and dry
it felt like sandpaper every time I tried to swallow
the grass was filled with dew
the leaves collecting water
quickly I filled my canteen with the cold elixir
Water carrier device. Keeps people hydrated. Keeps people alive when it is used properally used a lot in the desert and places like that. Helps people when they have no other supplies. Can be used for multiple different opitions. I use one of them while I run or bike or something like that. Is a huge help.
Canteen? No idea what it meant, I had to google it.
Well, cantine; fancy restaurant bla bla bla
I guess it’s just a place were people get pretty much fucked up and make some crazy shit.
Just like a bar.
I guess this form of thinking comes from an alcoholic dad.
He sipped the canteen, trying to get every last drop he could. The damned thing was hollow and didn’t do him any good. He tossed it aside, wiped the sweat from his brow and looked out over the desert, sad to see the rolling dunes. He muttered to himself as he started his long walk.
Camping, right? I think we used to have canteens when we went camping or hiking. Actually, hiking seems more accurate. We’d fill a big canteen with soup before climbing the mountain, and up at the top, there would always be a nice hot bowl of soup for everyone because the thing was so well fucking insulated. Usually it was homemade chicken soup.
when i was younger my dad and i used to go hiking a lot and i always thought he was so goofy for wanting to bring a canteen instead of a regular water bottle. he’s always liked to do things the old fashioned way and always will. we probably have about 5 canteens, too. i haven’t seen any of em in years.
the dryness taunted him. did he think that if he opened again and tried to drink that water would magically appear since the last time he tried and it was empty. it was turning into a harsh day,
this is something that will save your life if you are trapped in a desert with nothing but yourself and the wilderness, it can be made out of metal, plastic or anything of that sort, if it is made out of lead it would result in its user dying a slow death just like the romans did, I personally would like to have m
When i was a kid my dad had this canteen made out of wood. It was so pretty, it had a carving of a two headed eagle on it. And its feathers were carved out one by one. I use to love playing with it. I would but it around my waist with the braided rope that was attached and go out in the back yard and pretend to be an explKitt3nPawsorer.
It’s original purpose served me little, but the carved name on the side reminded of me of better days, sitting beneath a willow tree in my grandfather’s lap, listening to him sing old songs from his childhood, me clutching the sweet tea in the old war canteen.
I’ve already written about the canteen. Although, I guess I could just keep writing. The canteen… the canteen has overflowed with drinking water. What a waste!
I like the cool steel flavor of water from a canteen. Not the stale, plastic canteen water, but the metallic stainless steel ones. They remind me of camping as a child, using my older brothers old boy scout canteen. When I got older I left canteen’s behind for flasks. I like the idea of being a flask person. Liquor on the go!
the canteen was full of water. the following day, mother had emptied it. she said it had filled with flies and they were starting to get inside the house. everyday from then on, she would take the canteen and empty it.
Who has a canteen now-a-days? Aren’t water bottles or ‘hydration’ bottles all the rage? Is there a difference?
I thought my canteen would explode, but I took a drink out of it anyway. To my surprise, it didn’t, but I ended up getting lead poisoning, unfortunately. To counter- act this, I wrote in my will to preserve my brain like Walt Disney on The Simpsons.
the canteen was full of the precious water-those few ounces between death and life in the desert. who would drink it? him or me?
Vodka. In the desert. It was going to be a long ride to Vegas, and I doubt I would recall much come morning.
The Canteen was where we always got our food. It’s funny, now, because it burnt down. A canteen, it’s something that holds water, or any beverage, really. So a canteen, a water bottle, burnt down.
I remember Scott and I going there one night. It was after a fight, and we were dying of hunger and thirst. God, I’ll miss that place.
As he took a long drought from his canteen, he looked around at the scene surrounding him. Complete chaos and he wanted nothing more than to drink the night away worrying only about his next drink or the woman to be sleeping in his bed tonight.
Estaba en una cantina muriendo comiendo y cantando mientras misteriosamente saben qué no se qué significa canteen así que mejor voy a hablar de unos pedos que se echa mi vecina y que mágicamente vuelven a los unicornios a la vida, y no, no es verdad que cagan arcoiris, pero mi amigo gay si lo hace.
y que la cago por que es en ingles sorry sorry i was writing in spanish hmmm … this is …..$#% …”#%&/%/”//”!&!&//
the canteen smelled like mold now — old and musty; just another thing falling apart. another old war memory that his wife would resent. he was stuck in the jungles; the screaming of bombs slicing through the humid air, steaming rain saturating his singed skin.
yo iba caminando por ahi mientras vi que se encontraba una cantina frente al camino sin mas ni menos me dispuse a entrar cuando se me acerco un viejo de un aspecto demasiado extraño como si estuviera drogado pero con alguna especie de droga alucinojena y me ofrecio cosas que obvio no acepte uy me recuse
Small round and full of life giving water. The canteen is much like the word of God. Full of life giving water. Put your faith in Jesus Christ alone!