Not sure how he did it but he had his collar on when I got up. I could see tiny seed pods hiding in his fur and his paws were muddy. I quickly looked over at the door, still locked.
I love the way my dog takes his collar in his own mouth when we go for a walk. His intent look, ears tucked back as if to say, I can do this myself, thank you very much,
He fixes his collar quickly before jumping out from under the sheets. I never say what I think. Never. But the words pop out before I can even tell my brain no. “It’s like you never even wanted to be here in the first place.” He looks down at me carelessly, as if a small spider just caught his attention. “It’s not like we did anything. No need to run off in such a hurry.” I’m not begging or pleading; my sarcasm switch has flipped on yet again. And like the ass that I’ve always known him for, he squishes me like the spider I’ve just become.
Now that my parents are realizing that my days with them are numbered at best, they are trying to restrain me, to keep me confined to their collar and leash of expectations, to prevent me from leaving our decomposing nest and set off into the world.
lipstick on her collar……I asked where she had been, and the reply was vague. I knew at once that she was buried in some other bitches britches on the side, and there was nothing I could do to stop her.
I pulled my collar up slipped my hair back and walked up to the girl sitting at the end of the bar. She was a tall blond with silky hair and a beetles t-shirt and bell bottom jeans. I asked if she would like a drink and ordered 2 cokes. She thanked me and i asked her her name…
I still keep my old dog’s collar. He’s long gone to the great walkie in the sky, but I can’t bring myself to throw it out. I tell myself it’ll come in handy one day – some other dog might need it.
I don’t know what it is but he always misses his collar when he gets dressed. Everything is perfect. He looks great. He smells amazing. His collar, though, is another matter. It’s never folded right. I always reach out to fix it. He always turns around and gives me a kiss after.
She studied his collar, and flipped it back down. This wasn’t the time to be a James Dean lookalike. She straightened his tie, buttoned his blazer, and looked into his doll-like eyes. “Good luck,” She whispered, “I love you.” He kissed her on the cheek, and wiped away the tear falling from her eye. “I love you too,” He replied, “Remember that.” But of course she would, because after all, it’s hard to forget the last words someone you love ever told you.
When I think of the word collar, my mind immediately goes to a dog collar. Just because that’s the kind of collar I see every day working as a veterinary technician. We see all sorts of collars there, really cute ones! My dogs have collars with palm trees on them because it reminds me of California, which is where I truly want to be right now.
The doorbell rang. I ran to open the door. The sun was already setting across the house so I didn’t see him at first. He was just a figure standing in the doorway. I didn’t even realize his back was turned because the sun was in my eyes. He wore a knitted sweater with a blue shirt underneath. His collar was slightly crooked. I smiled as I reached out to fix it.
His collar was tall and starched, even though that wasn’t very fashionable anymore. His posture matched the collar, very upright, almost arrogant in its insistence. He looked at me with defiance in his eyes and I slowly turned and walked away.
the collar of a shirt can be really itchy sometimes. it really sucks. there is ways you can fix it or you could just go buy a new shirt if you hate your collar so much. there really cheap.
Missing you does not make it better. You are still the drop kick you always were. Seeing you wear a collar and tie just makes you look silly and makes me cry.
He grabbed his son’s collar because he did not know his own strength. Funny thing, desire, it would day can cart you to successes and promotions, and the next it can have your greatest struggle, hanging, dangling from your hands as your son’s shirt began to rip and your realization tore itself open–you know not your own strength.
He was choking, the rope pulled tight like a dog collar around his throat. They had promised to keep his girl safe if he surrendered. But he could hear her screams from the other room. Screams of sad defeat. So he let go.
She ran her fingers between the delicate skin of her neck and the spiked leather collar that encompassed it. The collar was tight. Stifling. She felt like a dog being forced to heel after an owner she despised. Why did she always try to fit in? This wasn’t her. She wasn’t a rebel. She wasn’t goth or emo or punk rock. […]
His name is Jesus. And he loves you! I thought it was stupid too. I had sex. I did drugs. I drank. But I felt empty. I wanted something more. And I found it.
My dog had a brightest collar that he just loved. He thought he was super dog in it and did many feeets of helping folks win in losing situations. His colar was the super collar of the world. I would have to clean the collar nightly and see that it was fit for him when the next call for a super dog was put out. That collar has been around for centuries.
For a moment, he paused and stared down at her. She was silently crying, an impressive feat. He raked his eyes over her softly shaking form and, for a moment, just one, felt some remorse. But the chain jingled in his hand and with a cheek-spliting grin, he gave a mighty tug.
straining. holding back a flood of skin and god knows what. pushing. pushing. straining to break through. burst the button and let loose the flood. below.
Starch stiffened the collar of his shirt as he tied the red bowtie until it was a monarch butterfly fluttering beneath his chin. Pinned to the small pocket was a medal. A simple medal at that, too, bearing no real emblem or embellishment. Silver, not gold. Tarnished, not shining. It glowed as brightly as his own dead teeth.
collar around the dogs neck is red and thick. made with polyester in some foreign country. it’s touching the ground, because it’s too large around the middle, as he bends his head to sniff at a bug. the red reminds me of a long quiet sunset night.
Collars… what a hassle those were. Something that would stay on my pets, that would be comfortable for them even when lying down. Something that they *could* slip out of if they ever got caught up in something, so they wouldn’t strangle to death… I gave a lot of thought to collars. They were important to me because I needed to be sure my pets had visible ID on them in case they got lost. They never did but I had regular dreams about their wandering off and my frantic attempts to find them – The dreams even continued for years after they died. I “collar trained” any pet I had as soon as they got home, no matter what the age. Usually they were so overwhelmed with the new surroundings they didn’t even notice the thing around their neck! All my pets were pretty great about keeping their collars on. Never fussed with them or pulled them off, even though they could. On the rare occasion when I noticed one of them running around without a collar, it was always due to the collar having been caught on something and their slipping their heads out to free themselves – and for that, I was grateful. I still have most of their collars. I keep them with their ashes.
Protection. Crease the
Fashion. Release and
Innovate. Easel. Counting fractions.
View the knot in the split.
Sublimate with blackmail.
Diseases in modern society.
Business casual, business as usual.
Disregard the flatulence.
I lifted his collar and threw the bow tie behind his head. Delicately folding and flipping the pieces of the tie. Again I lied the collar flat and stood back to admire my work. What I saw was a huge grin and twinkling eyes.
I popped up the collar on my London Fog overcoat. The rain was turning from a drizzle to a pour and I regret the choice to leave my umbrella behind. No time to go back, the asshat in front of was moving fast and didn’t care that he was getting drenched.
You put a collar on a dog. The dog collar usually has the dog’s name and information on how to contact the owners. There are also collars on shirts. My uniform shirt had a collar.
There are days when any kind of collar is like a choker. just nothing there, please. I need to breathe. and then i see those folks wearing dog collars as chokers and it makes me wonder – really – what they hell are they thinking?
Not sure how he did it but he had his collar on when I got up. I could see tiny seed pods hiding in his fur and his paws were muddy. I quickly looked over at the door, still locked.
I love the way my dog takes his collar in his own mouth when we go for a walk. His intent look, ears tucked back as if to say, I can do this myself, thank you very much,
He fixes his collar quickly before jumping out from under the sheets. I never say what I think. Never. But the words pop out before I can even tell my brain no. “It’s like you never even wanted to be here in the first place.” He looks down at me carelessly, as if a small spider just caught his attention. “It’s not like we did anything. No need to run off in such a hurry.” I’m not begging or pleading; my sarcasm switch has flipped on yet again. And like the ass that I’ve always known him for, he squishes me like the spider I’ve just become.
Now that my parents are realizing that my days with them are numbered at best, they are trying to restrain me, to keep me confined to their collar and leash of expectations, to prevent me from leaving our decomposing nest and set off into the world.
choke is the first word that comes to mind
an itchy polo
starched upright grazing the ears
billboard for conformity… all in one small decal
lipstick on her collar……I asked where she had been, and the reply was vague. I knew at once that she was buried in some other bitches britches on the side, and there was nothing I could do to stop her.
a thung thats from your shirt
I pulled my collar up slipped my hair back and walked up to the girl sitting at the end of the bar. She was a tall blond with silky hair and a beetles t-shirt and bell bottom jeans. I asked if she would like a drink and ordered 2 cokes. She thanked me and i asked her her name…
I still keep my old dog’s collar. He’s long gone to the great walkie in the sky, but I can’t bring myself to throw it out. I tell myself it’ll come in handy one day – some other dog might need it.
I don’t know what it is but he always misses his collar when he gets dressed. Everything is perfect. He looks great. He smells amazing. His collar, though, is another matter. It’s never folded right. I always reach out to fix it. He always turns around and gives me a kiss after.
She studied his collar, and flipped it back down. This wasn’t the time to be a James Dean lookalike. She straightened his tie, buttoned his blazer, and looked into his doll-like eyes. “Good luck,” She whispered, “I love you.” He kissed her on the cheek, and wiped away the tear falling from her eye. “I love you too,” He replied, “Remember that.” But of course she would, because after all, it’s hard to forget the last words someone you love ever told you.
When I think of the word collar, my mind immediately goes to a dog collar. Just because that’s the kind of collar I see every day working as a veterinary technician. We see all sorts of collars there, really cute ones! My dogs have collars with palm trees on them because it reminds me of California, which is where I truly want to be right now.
collars keep me tied up, stop me from misbehaving, and keep me close
The doorbell rang. I ran to open the door. The sun was already setting across the house so I didn’t see him at first. He was just a figure standing in the doorway. I didn’t even realize his back was turned because the sun was in my eyes. He wore a knitted sweater with a blue shirt underneath. His collar was slightly crooked. I smiled as I reached out to fix it.
His collar was tall and starched, even though that wasn’t very fashionable anymore. His posture matched the collar, very upright, almost arrogant in its insistence. He looked at me with defiance in his eyes and I slowly turned and walked away.
the collar of a shirt can be really itchy sometimes. it really sucks. there is ways you can fix it or you could just go buy a new shirt if you hate your collar so much. there really cheap.
Marked with every shade of of any thing but whit, Bruce was truly at the bottom of the pit. I mean liitraly, he had fallen 80 fi
the top of a shirt. what a dog wears. white collar. blue collar workers.
Missing you does not make it better. You are still the drop kick you always were. Seeing you wear a collar and tie just makes you look silly and makes me cry.
He grabbed his son’s collar because he did not know his own strength. Funny thing, desire, it would day can cart you to successes and promotions, and the next it can have your greatest struggle, hanging, dangling from your hands as your son’s shirt began to rip and your realization tore itself open–you know not your own strength.
He was choking, the rope pulled tight like a dog collar around his throat. They had promised to keep his girl safe if he surrendered. But he could hear her screams from the other room. Screams of sad defeat. So he let go.
I your bitch doesn’t come on her own, collar by the name. ~Pimp, on in-punctual bitches.
She ran her fingers between the delicate skin of her neck and the spiked leather collar that encompassed it. The collar was tight. Stifling. She felt like a dog being forced to heel after an owner she despised. Why did she always try to fit in? This wasn’t her. She wasn’t a rebel. She wasn’t goth or emo or punk rock. […]
His name is Jesus. And he loves you! I thought it was stupid too. I had sex. I did drugs. I drank. But I felt empty. I wanted something more. And I found it.
My dog had a brightest collar that he just loved. He thought he was super dog in it and did many feeets of helping folks win in losing situations. His colar was the super collar of the world. I would have to clean the collar nightly and see that it was fit for him when the next call for a super dog was put out. That collar has been around for centuries.
The collar of your shirt reminds me of the days I would fix it, the days we were together, the days that I loved you</3
There was a time when men wore collars. We called them the civilized times.
For a moment, he paused and stared down at her. She was silently crying, an impressive feat. He raked his eyes over her softly shaking form and, for a moment, just one, felt some remorse. But the chain jingled in his hand and with a cheek-spliting grin, he gave a mighty tug.
straining. holding back a flood of skin and god knows what. pushing. pushing. straining to break through. burst the button and let loose the flood. below.
Starch stiffened the collar of his shirt as he tied the red bowtie until it was a monarch butterfly fluttering beneath his chin. Pinned to the small pocket was a medal. A simple medal at that, too, bearing no real emblem or embellishment. Silver, not gold. Tarnished, not shining. It glowed as brightly as his own dead teeth.
collar bone, its my favorite part of the human body. I don’t have a good collar bone, but I like when people do. any shirt, tank top just looks good
collar around the dogs neck is red and thick. made with polyester in some foreign country. it’s touching the ground, because it’s too large around the middle, as he bends his head to sniff at a bug. the red reminds me of a long quiet sunset night.
Collar
Collars… what a hassle those were. Something that would stay on my pets, that would be comfortable for them even when lying down. Something that they *could* slip out of if they ever got caught up in something, so they wouldn’t strangle to death… I gave a lot of thought to collars. They were important to me because I needed to be sure my pets had visible ID on them in case they got lost. They never did but I had regular dreams about their wandering off and my frantic attempts to find them – The dreams even continued for years after they died. I “collar trained” any pet I had as soon as they got home, no matter what the age. Usually they were so overwhelmed with the new surroundings they didn’t even notice the thing around their neck! All my pets were pretty great about keeping their collars on. Never fussed with them or pulled them off, even though they could. On the rare occasion when I noticed one of them running around without a collar, it was always due to the collar having been caught on something and their slipping their heads out to free themselves – and for that, I was grateful. I still have most of their collars. I keep them with their ashes.
Protection. Crease the
Fashion. Release and
Innovate. Easel. Counting fractions.
View the knot in the split.
Sublimate with blackmail.
Diseases in modern society.
Business casual, business as usual.
Disregard the flatulence.
white collar, blue collar, dirty, ring around, work, clean, labor, broken, leash, size,
I lifted his collar and threw the bow tie behind his head. Delicately folding and flipping the pieces of the tie. Again I lied the collar flat and stood back to admire my work. What I saw was a huge grin and twinkling eyes.
I popped up the collar on my London Fog overcoat. The rain was turning from a drizzle to a pour and I regret the choice to leave my umbrella behind. No time to go back, the asshat in front of was moving fast and didn’t care that he was getting drenched.
I was wondering if I should get collar ID for my dog skip. He never answers when I call.
You put a collar on a dog. The dog collar usually has the dog’s name and information on how to contact the owners. There are also collars on shirts. My uniform shirt had a collar.
There are days when any kind of collar is like a choker. just nothing there, please. I need to breathe. and then i see those folks wearing dog collars as chokers and it makes me wonder – really – what they hell are they thinking?