uh i dk what the heck to write.
so is it like a thing being clipped like clicking a paper, lool
i just saw this on torlling thing. and idk. what to type
hi lol clipped is .. idk? benig clipped by a clip to clipp off past tense okay bye :D ilyyyyyyyyy
paper clips help you hold shit in place. makes a good necklace. fishes have clipped heads. nail clippers cut your toenails. you have to clip hang nails. a clip can be used for your hair. guys like a play on clips. hair clips are lost easily. clips can keep you organized
Something clipped me in the back of my ear. It was one of two things: my body piercing artist or God telling me not to get my cartilage pierced. Can a hoop really ruin a reputation?
When the wings of an angel are clipped, his halo shatters and falls, just as he falls from the heavens to the deep, dark, dank pits of hell. A demon, then, is born.
‘Clip your wings. Discipline yourself.’ How can I write what you ask when I am a writer at heart! When I complained about the assignment to write a story in a single paragraph, you told me I needed to learn to write things other than novels. This.. Will be difficult.
We clipped her wings to save her from prey…did we do her any favors? I don’t think so as I look back on it. We thought we were doing her a favor, but we did not teach her how to survive in the real world of her peers. Nor did we teach our children the survival techniques they needed to live. We neglected the most important part of their education by sheltering them for all negative forces.
What is being clipped? A newspaper article? Something from a magazine? Or perhaps it is not an item like that, but rather clipping your nails? I’m not particularly fond of the word “clipped.” It’s quite odd, really.
Clip. clip. clip. Jack looked up irritated at his girlfriend-Dakotah-
“What the hell are you doing?” Dakotah looked up smiling
“Clipping my toe nails what else?”
“Disgusting.” Jack sighed shaking his head
I like my hair short, clipped and neat. I hate to spend hours drying it and have to drag it out of my eyes. Clipped is everything I need, short and snappy.
nipped in the bud is not clipped in the bud! there’s an observation for you.the ony one i can think of for clipped is clipped to the scut. Tress and hedges are infinitely more beautiful growing freely and not austerely clipped back. when will people ever get to know this yes an stop pouring toxic fumes into the environment in the effort cut things back back. the time is fast approaching
when there will be no trees and no grass. will we enjoy the bareness?
I clipped my nails the other day. I haven’t cut them in a while. I like growing them long because they make me feel girly. I guess I’m pretty manly. But yea they make me feel girly. I have really pretty nails too apparently. So people get jealous. That make’s me happy. So yea. I enjoy making my nails long, but eventually I need to cut them and end it.
I sat there numbly on my bed. I was watching a movie of no particular importance, painting my nails a ridiculous shade of blue. It’s ok, it couldn’t have been real. She’s not dead. She didn’t get clipped by a truck while driving home. It was just a dream. I opened my eyes and took a deep breath. Then, slowly walking downstairs I called out her name.
“Mom? Mommy?” When I reached the living room I sat down on the couch. I cried.
The clipped tone that she spoke with disguised how nervous she really was. She didn’t expect to take over a manager position when she applied for a job at the small firm, but she couldn’t turn down the pay when the opening came up. She hardly felt qualified, but when opportunity knocks…
My wings had suddenly been clipped, and there was nothing I could do to fly. I just sunk back into the hell that was my reality and thought about the times I spent with him. We had only just been soaring…what had happened? A sudden accident had pulled us worlds apart, and the only thing I could think was that I never even got to say thank you and goodbye….
Her tone was clipped, “You have nothing to care about here. You will have no possessions, no family. I am all you have.”
She swiveled to look at the orphans closely, “And you will behave or be severely punished. The rules are posted in every room and hallway. It’s impossible to not know.” She stared at them each closely. “And you will not ever escape. So don’t even worry about those consequences.”
Ms. Laveta spun on her heel, “There is no talking without permission, no eating large portions, no complaining, no dragging your feet, no humming, no singing, no annoying noises, you will do your work quickly and well.” She turned her back, “Now off to sleep at once.”
I was running down the road, doing my normal loop around the neighborhood. I heard a horn blaring behind me, I whipped my head around but it was far too late. Half a chevy plowed into my arm and clipped me. I felt my body doing a 360 in the air, and land in a pile of trash cans. I looked up and saw my ex sitting behind the wheel. An evil grin on her face. I knew kissing her sister was a bad idea.
Clipped out of the newspaper. So many things can be taken from the newspaper and used for extraordinary things. Whether you take the clippings and form them into letters for a quote on your wall or use clipped pages to soak the water out of your shoes after a rainy day, the newspaper can be used for a variety of activities.
You haven’t seen her in a long time, but you can tell she’s been doing better without you. You once had dreams of a future where you would be her prince.
my hair gets clipped by big rusty scicssors..I wonder what thename for those clippers are…clippy..and his girlfreinds name is clipporia and clipporia only gets used on people with greasy hair …they both hate when they have to take alcohal baths ..but it makes it all worth it when thye get to cut pubic hair…that is the ultimate clip.
She glared at him, her wings fluttering uselessly against her back. This was one thing she hated about feather wings. None of the sheer winged girls had this problem – they could still soar. But when a faery had feather wings and she let one of the humans too close, there was always the danger of being clipped.
“You can’t fly,” They said. “We’ve clipped your wings.” But I never wanted to stop trying. Rattling bones and the warm touch of lips. That’s the last thing I remember feeling before I took the plunge and I knew, that even if I didn’t come back. They’d be fine without me.
I got my haircut and they clipped off my years work of growing out my bangs. Years and years onto the floor. Didn’t even use it. Anyways, yeah. Isn’t clipped what they do to animals? Or is that snipped? Hmm.
to the ground i spiral, heartbroken, shackled by the lack of freedom nature did gift me with from birth. my spirit shattered as my body crashed into the pavement, bouncing once and then again, every bone broken. why oh why did they have to clip my wings
Clipped, as in cut short. What an apt word for this sort of forum. Writing sixty seconds at a time, sure things aren’t all that complete, but then there’s something to be said for simply getting to the point instead of dragging on and on like some over-budget movie.
Clip clip, snip snip. That’s all I could hear in the dark room with the red velvet curtains. What was happening in the next room? Who could know? Maybe clippings from a paper? Maybe the cutting of hair? Maybe… Maybe murder?
He with concern saw the fast movement as the car in front of him drifted lanes, the back bumper of the car, knocked the front wheel of the motor cycle in a flash. He felt it move than…
clipped snipped you’ve got me smitten. I’ve been taking pieces of my heart and setting them down hopefully you’ll give them back and we can dance underneath our trimmings
When the birdf flew cackling – its wings blurred in the failing sun – small residues of pollen stirred around the tops of the heather and added to the purple hanging on the hills around – the lone walker shrugged his pack higher on his back as he crested the last hill before the valley – a ewe lay by the burn breathing heavily – coped and incapacitated – someone to tell? – not in this place and at this hour – he continued on the path toward the lit windows of the house below
Holding to virtue allows anyone to soar above the hardships that try to pull them down.
Even if one’s metaphorical “wings” have been clipped in an attempt to prevent their flight, the act of walking alone, with a head raised with steadfast optimism, can be as graceful as any venture in the skies.
Honestly I don’t know about this word. Would you say, “I need to get my hair clipped”? Or “I have to go clip the shrubs”? How about the horse clipped down the street? Mm I don’t know.
He was clipped from the side. The next thing he knew they were airborne. Time slowed. His heartbeat loud and rhythmic. The sound of twisted metal and broken glass melded with some indie lo-fi band playing on the radio, which created a bizarre soundtrack to a moment frozen in time. And before it even began it was all over.
He was driving down the clouds. Damn it was cold! He was running late for work, and he had barely eaten any stars for breakfast. He sped up. Passed a bird on 77th. Kept going. Passed a big big black could on 123rd. He kept going. He then remembered he had forgotten to put on his seat belt. “God and all, but I still forget this thing!” he said as he reached down for the clip. He didn’t notice; a big airplane was coming. He crashed directly into it. He died.
By the time it was over, he wasn’t able to tell whether to car had hit him or clipped his bike. Either way as he fell to the ground, tangled in the mess of the cheap aluminum frame, not built to stand up to the force of an oncoming vehicle, he was able to coherently think, “This is going to suck.”
He was right.
Broken arm. Two sprained ankles. Bruised collar bone. And a fairly severe concussion.
uh i dk what the heck to write.
so is it like a thing being clipped like clicking a paper, lool
i just saw this on torlling thing. and idk. what to type
hi lol clipped is .. idk? benig clipped by a clip to clipp off past tense okay bye :D ilyyyyyyyyy
paper clips help you hold shit in place. makes a good necklace. fishes have clipped heads. nail clippers cut your toenails. you have to clip hang nails. a clip can be used for your hair. guys like a play on clips. hair clips are lost easily. clips can keep you organized
Agents Farley and Wharton ran down the dimly lit corridor.
There was a door at the end — on the other side of that door would be the answers they came all this way to find.
“Are you ready for this?” Farley pulled his gun from his holster and held it close to his side.
“I have to know, Farls. This could be it. This could be..”
Suddenly, the door opened and the two agents were flooded with white light. It was…
held together with a clip to keep together lots of paper
Something clipped me in the back of my ear. It was one of two things: my body piercing artist or God telling me not to get my cartilage pierced. Can a hoop really ruin a reputation?
When the wings of an angel are clipped, his halo shatters and falls, just as he falls from the heavens to the deep, dark, dank pits of hell. A demon, then, is born.
‘Clip your wings. Discipline yourself.’ How can I write what you ask when I am a writer at heart! When I complained about the assignment to write a story in a single paragraph, you told me I needed to learn to write things other than novels. This.. Will be difficult.
We clipped her wings to save her from prey…did we do her any favors? I don’t think so as I look back on it. We thought we were doing her a favor, but we did not teach her how to survive in the real world of her peers. Nor did we teach our children the survival techniques they needed to live. We neglected the most important part of their education by sheltering them for all negative forces.
What is being clipped? A newspaper article? Something from a magazine? Or perhaps it is not an item like that, but rather clipping your nails? I’m not particularly fond of the word “clipped.” It’s quite odd, really.
Clip. clip. clip. Jack looked up irritated at his girlfriend-Dakotah-
“What the hell are you doing?” Dakotah looked up smiling
“Clipping my toe nails what else?”
“Disgusting.” Jack sighed shaking his head
I like my hair short, clipped and neat. I hate to spend hours drying it and have to drag it out of my eyes. Clipped is everything I need, short and snappy.
nipped in the bud is not clipped in the bud! there’s an observation for you.the ony one i can think of for clipped is clipped to the scut. Tress and hedges are infinitely more beautiful growing freely and not austerely clipped back. when will people ever get to know this yes an stop pouring toxic fumes into the environment in the effort cut things back back. the time is fast approaching
when there will be no trees and no grass. will we enjoy the bareness?
I clipped my nails the other day. I haven’t cut them in a while. I like growing them long because they make me feel girly. I guess I’m pretty manly. But yea they make me feel girly. I have really pretty nails too apparently. So people get jealous. That make’s me happy. So yea. I enjoy making my nails long, but eventually I need to cut them and end it.
I sat there numbly on my bed. I was watching a movie of no particular importance, painting my nails a ridiculous shade of blue. It’s ok, it couldn’t have been real. She’s not dead. She didn’t get clipped by a truck while driving home. It was just a dream. I opened my eyes and took a deep breath. Then, slowly walking downstairs I called out her name.
“Mom? Mommy?” When I reached the living room I sat down on the couch. I cried.
I wanted to write about the word clipped, but the timer cut my sentence short and it got cl…
The clipped tone that she spoke with disguised how nervous she really was. She didn’t expect to take over a manager position when she applied for a job at the small firm, but she couldn’t turn down the pay when the opening came up. She hardly felt qualified, but when opportunity knocks…
My wings had suddenly been clipped, and there was nothing I could do to fly. I just sunk back into the hell that was my reality and thought about the times I spent with him. We had only just been soaring…what had happened? A sudden accident had pulled us worlds apart, and the only thing I could think was that I never even got to say thank you and goodbye….
Her tone was clipped, “You have nothing to care about here. You will have no possessions, no family. I am all you have.”
She swiveled to look at the orphans closely, “And you will behave or be severely punished. The rules are posted in every room and hallway. It’s impossible to not know.” She stared at them each closely. “And you will not ever escape. So don’t even worry about those consequences.”
Ms. Laveta spun on her heel, “There is no talking without permission, no eating large portions, no complaining, no dragging your feet, no humming, no singing, no annoying noises, you will do your work quickly and well.” She turned her back, “Now off to sleep at once.”
I was running down the road, doing my normal loop around the neighborhood. I heard a horn blaring behind me, I whipped my head around but it was far too late. Half a chevy plowed into my arm and clipped me. I felt my body doing a 360 in the air, and land in a pile of trash cans. I looked up and saw my ex sitting behind the wheel. An evil grin on her face. I knew kissing her sister was a bad idea.
Clipped newspapers melt into ripped vapors.
Clipped out of the newspaper. So many things can be taken from the newspaper and used for extraordinary things. Whether you take the clippings and form them into letters for a quote on your wall or use clipped pages to soak the water out of your shoes after a rainy day, the newspaper can be used for a variety of activities.
“That dog ain’t GOT no tail, son.”
I looked. It was true – just a stump, and unable to wag. “What happened?” I asked Uncle Franklin.
“It got docked.” I’d never heard that word before.
Her voice is clipped and brisk and wintry.
You haven’t seen her in a long time, but you can tell she’s been doing better without you. You once had dreams of a future where you would be her prince.
Maybe she never wanted that.
my hair gets clipped by big rusty scicssors..I wonder what thename for those clippers are…clippy..and his girlfreinds name is clipporia and clipporia only gets used on people with greasy hair …they both hate when they have to take alcohal baths ..but it makes it all worth it when thye get to cut pubic hair…that is the ultimate clip.
She glared at him, her wings fluttering uselessly against her back. This was one thing she hated about feather wings. None of the sheer winged girls had this problem – they could still soar. But when a faery had feather wings and she let one of the humans too close, there was always the danger of being clipped.
clipped is when you clip something together.
“You can’t fly,” They said. “We’ve clipped your wings.” But I never wanted to stop trying. Rattling bones and the warm touch of lips. That’s the last thing I remember feeling before I took the plunge and I knew, that even if I didn’t come back. They’d be fine without me.
I got my haircut and they clipped off my years work of growing out my bangs. Years and years onto the floor. Didn’t even use it. Anyways, yeah. Isn’t clipped what they do to animals? Or is that snipped? Hmm.
to the ground i spiral, heartbroken, shackled by the lack of freedom nature did gift me with from birth. my spirit shattered as my body crashed into the pavement, bouncing once and then again, every bone broken. why oh why did they have to clip my wings
Clipped, as in cut short. What an apt word for this sort of forum. Writing sixty seconds at a time, sure things aren’t all that complete, but then there’s something to be said for simply getting to the point instead of dragging on and on like some over-budget movie.
Clip clip, snip snip. That’s all I could hear in the dark room with the red velvet curtains. What was happening in the next room? Who could know? Maybe clippings from a paper? Maybe the cutting of hair? Maybe… Maybe murder?
He with concern saw the fast movement as the car in front of him drifted lanes, the back bumper of the car, knocked the front wheel of the motor cycle in a flash. He felt it move than…
clipped snipped you’ve got me smitten. I’ve been taking pieces of my heart and setting them down hopefully you’ll give them back and we can dance underneath our trimmings
When the birdf flew cackling – its wings blurred in the failing sun – small residues of pollen stirred around the tops of the heather and added to the purple hanging on the hills around – the lone walker shrugged his pack higher on his back as he crested the last hill before the valley – a ewe lay by the burn breathing heavily – coped and incapacitated – someone to tell? – not in this place and at this hour – he continued on the path toward the lit windows of the house below
Holding to virtue allows anyone to soar above the hardships that try to pull them down.
Even if one’s metaphorical “wings” have been clipped in an attempt to prevent their flight, the act of walking alone, with a head raised with steadfast optimism, can be as graceful as any venture in the skies.
Honestly I don’t know about this word. Would you say, “I need to get my hair clipped”? Or “I have to go clip the shrubs”? How about the horse clipped down the street? Mm I don’t know.
The metal was so close to my ear that I felt for sure with each snip snip I could lose a lobe.
He was clipped from the side. The next thing he knew they were airborne. Time slowed. His heartbeat loud and rhythmic. The sound of twisted metal and broken glass melded with some indie lo-fi band playing on the radio, which created a bizarre soundtrack to a moment frozen in time. And before it even began it was all over.
He was driving down the clouds. Damn it was cold! He was running late for work, and he had barely eaten any stars for breakfast. He sped up. Passed a bird on 77th. Kept going. Passed a big big black could on 123rd. He kept going. He then remembered he had forgotten to put on his seat belt. “God and all, but I still forget this thing!” he said as he reached down for the clip. He didn’t notice; a big airplane was coming. He crashed directly into it. He died.
By the time it was over, he wasn’t able to tell whether to car had hit him or clipped his bike. Either way as he fell to the ground, tangled in the mess of the cheap aluminum frame, not built to stand up to the force of an oncoming vehicle, he was able to coherently think, “This is going to suck.”
He was right.
Broken arm. Two sprained ankles. Bruised collar bone. And a fairly severe concussion.