i had this word yesterday. i dont want to write about it again. *sigh* i like sleeping on couches. although i like the word sofa better, it sounds more compfy and cushy, like a couch/sofa should be.
couch, a couch is a comfy thing you sit on or you can also sleep! it can come in different colors to. It can be leather or a smooth furry one. Most of them are extremly comfy.
The couch where I sat with a good friend
For 15 hours straight
Still sits in my basement, the cushions stuffed with conversations
Of here and there
Of then and now
Now came around, and there came around
She is miles away, doing her God’s will
One day i was sitting on my couch. It was no ordinary couch. it was a magical couch from space. When you sat on it a unicorn gave you a massage with its horn (which hurt alot).
We laid on the couch embracing one another. Tears streaming from the joy of feeling whole once again. It was so good to have her home. I needed to kiss her, hold her, tell her how much I love her…and hope she would reciprocate.
The couch in the livingroom has a thin film of Yogi slobber. It’s harry and marred from claws gripping and sharp buttons scraping. But its the couch we got married on. Yes, we got married while sitting on a couch in our living room. It’s not even a full sized couch! It’s a love seat and our minister, who was on the couch with us, is not a small man. We were like three hot sweaty happy people smushed on a black leather couch on June 25th. Our immediate family – six of them – managed to fit on our three-seater couch across the room from us. My sister-in-law (to be at the time) readjusted mid-ceremony and caused the remote control, which was apparently under the third couch cushion, to activate the television. The Golf Channel flashed on at full volume. I did my best not to be distracted during the homily as the immediate family scrambled to mute the television. Afterwords, even the extended family and friends who were seated down a floor and outside on couches they brought themselves, said they could hear the commotion and feared that I had defected to the “Divot side.” I thought, at the time, that the “Divot side” wasn’t very clever. But what else are non-golfers going to say?
Long and orange. I say like rust but Louw says it’s all Tom Waitsey and calls it “Halloween orange”. It is where I sit when I am tired, slouching. I can hear the neighbours’ daughter playing the piano and singing – her voice is clear and strong.
When I was visiting my sister in Oregon, I slept on her couch. It was the most amazing sleep I think I’ve ever had. I sunk into the cushions fell asleep sprawled out like an exhausted kid after a tantrum.
I have been thinking of moving from this quite uncomfortable chair to the luxurious looking couch next to me for a good thirty minutes now. This shows how incredibly lazy I am.
She sits on the couch, sprawled out. Today was a long one, filled with things and people she cannot understand. Her eyes glaze over as she watches the news; she sits and looks out on the things she cannot change.
I am on my couch now. I look around, and I see my dogs, frantically chewing on their bones before they are secured in their kennels for the day. I have a terrible headache and all I want to do is sleep. I received horrible news from the doctor on monday and I just want to stay on my couch.
He did not want to end up on the couch. He wanted to love. He wanted to live. He wanted to share. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs. But that was not what happened.
There is one next to me. I would like to sit on it. It looks so comfortable…but I am so tired. I don’t wanna move. It’s way too early to be awake right now. Maybe I could just sleep on it. That would be delightful. A nice nap. I am seriously typing about sleep I am so tired. That couch has never been so tempting.
I sat my plump bottom down on the firm cotton of the sofa, stretching my fingertips out across the textured cloth, wondering if right now somebody else in the world was marveling at something as simple as a couch.
somewhere to sit and do nothing for lots of hours , comfy, potatoes, flopping into the middle and going out through the other side into a wonderland, marshmellow softness, some are rubbish and scratched by cats.
I’m sitting on one. It has held up several people and absorbed several things. So much could be said of us by the quick flick of a blacklight… Maybe a chemical analysis could be done. I’d be interested to see the atoms that this couch has taken in on top of the ones it came with. It’s amazing to think this couch came from materials that were once found in nature, and now it has turned into something much less so.
Couch. How much time you spend on a couch is a great way to measure how effectively you manage your time. People who use their time well won’t be sitting on the couch, the opposite the latter.
there was a couch, it was old and raggard and no one loved it anymore. it was shoved outside, rained on, and eventually it started disintegrating. one day a cat came and sat on it. it loved it. but it too scratched the couch and the couch was eventually just gone.
I remember the day perfectly. I was sitting on the couch when I heard the news of his death. In that moment, I had no emotion. I has empty of everything. I remained on that couch for what seemed like days. It is the first thing I think of when I hear the word ‘couch.’
Don’t think. Just write. I want to sit on the couch, instead I’m at my desk trying to get my work finished in time before my favourite show on tv starts. What is that show again? Is it Bewitched? Is it I Dream of jeanni
Couch, a beautiful, amazing place of rest. Come on all shapes and colours and sizes. You are so comfortable and I love you! COUCH! LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE!
Comfortable place of rest, i love it!!!!! I love you couch!
Purple? love
I am sitting on you right now, you are leather and deep deep brown and so so beautiful! I love you couch you are amazing!
couch…the piece of furniture i’d love to have, but i haven’t acquired a really good one yet. perhaps when i get my hands on a good couch, that’s when i settle down somewhere. till then, i’ll just roam.
The place to rest, the place to be. After a hard day. A place to lay your head and forget your troubles. To take a nap or to accidentally fall to sleep. I wish i was there. And not in front of my PC.
sitting in a couch lazy as i can be looking at my celling seeing the mystery tree, how did i end here and where is the meaning i look at my couch and see a relief. Laying down at the brink of a sleep is this a dream or reality.
The couch – it lets you sit. It is home for many, and I love my home, like others do as well. Where would we be without couch? Homeless! There is no home, without a couch. I love my home; I love my couch.
sherlock curled over on the couch, his hair hanging in his face. he couldn’t quite reach the remote from here and the tv was even further away, the book he was reading was under john’s bed somewhere, and he was so entirely bored but even more entirely lazy. he was tired and apathetic and all he wanted to do was fuck some shit up.
The couch was old and worn and it had to go. But she couldn’t do it. She couldnt get rid of it. It had been a part of their family for so long. All those stains had a meaning, a place, a memory attached to them. The long nights of holding a sick, fevered child, the spot where red wine had spilled after the disastrous New Years party, the oil from all the popcorn when they squished all together for family movie night.
a couch is where i would lay when i honestly have nothing to do because most of my time is spent either playing my violin standing up, eating, in bed, or on my computer. i like someone so i’m trying to understand what he likes, and i’m making myself watch the tv program he likes so i can talk to him more…
I wish I had a big, comfy couch that was filled with all kinds of magical animals and furry creatures that love to be held and played with and loved. That way whenever I’m lonely I can just go to my big couch and play with the animals. That would be sweet.
i had this word yesterday. i dont want to write about it again. *sigh* i like sleeping on couches. although i like the word sofa better, it sounds more compfy and cushy, like a couch/sofa should be.
couch, a couch is a comfy thing you sit on or you can also sleep! it can come in different colors to. It can be leather or a smooth furry one. Most of them are extremly comfy.
All the fat people that sit on the coouch all day i think they need to get some exercis .they need to run and eat healthy .they need tobe active.
All the fat people like to sit on the couch all day and do nothing.i tyhink they should work out and get so exersie and stop being lazy.
The couch where I sat with a good friend
For 15 hours straight
Still sits in my basement, the cushions stuffed with conversations
Of here and there
Of then and now
Now came around, and there came around
She is miles away, doing her God’s will
I miss her
One day i was sitting on my couch. It was no ordinary couch. it was a magical couch from space. When you sat on it a unicorn gave you a massage with its horn (which hurt alot).
Die Nase läuft,
die Einsamkeit schlägt aufs gemüt
der Hals tut weh
nichts kann dich ablenken
Leg dich auf die Couch
(das ist so schlecht, dass man es nicht veröffentlichen dürfte)
my couch is smells bad. sour milk, spoiled food and such, combined. not to mention sweat and tears lol.
We laid on the couch embracing one another. Tears streaming from the joy of feeling whole once again. It was so good to have her home. I needed to kiss her, hold her, tell her how much I love her…and hope she would reciprocate.
The couch in the livingroom has a thin film of Yogi slobber. It’s harry and marred from claws gripping and sharp buttons scraping. But its the couch we got married on. Yes, we got married while sitting on a couch in our living room. It’s not even a full sized couch! It’s a love seat and our minister, who was on the couch with us, is not a small man. We were like three hot sweaty happy people smushed on a black leather couch on June 25th. Our immediate family – six of them – managed to fit on our three-seater couch across the room from us. My sister-in-law (to be at the time) readjusted mid-ceremony and caused the remote control, which was apparently under the third couch cushion, to activate the television. The Golf Channel flashed on at full volume. I did my best not to be distracted during the homily as the immediate family scrambled to mute the television. Afterwords, even the extended family and friends who were seated down a floor and outside on couches they brought themselves, said they could hear the commotion and feared that I had defected to the “Divot side.” I thought, at the time, that the “Divot side” wasn’t very clever. But what else are non-golfers going to say?
Long and orange. I say like rust but Louw says it’s all Tom Waitsey and calls it “Halloween orange”. It is where I sit when I am tired, slouching. I can hear the neighbours’ daughter playing the piano and singing – her voice is clear and strong.
When I was visiting my sister in Oregon, I slept on her couch. It was the most amazing sleep I think I’ve ever had. I sunk into the cushions fell asleep sprawled out like an exhausted kid after a tantrum.
I have been thinking of moving from this quite uncomfortable chair to the luxurious looking couch next to me for a good thirty minutes now. This shows how incredibly lazy I am.
She sits on the couch, sprawled out. Today was a long one, filled with things and people she cannot understand. Her eyes glaze over as she watches the news; she sits and looks out on the things she cannot change.
I am on my couch now. I look around, and I see my dogs, frantically chewing on their bones before they are secured in their kennels for the day. I have a terrible headache and all I want to do is sleep. I received horrible news from the doctor on monday and I just want to stay on my couch.
He did not want to end up on the couch. He wanted to love. He wanted to live. He wanted to share. He wanted to shout at the top of his lungs. But that was not what happened.
I have done this word before…twice. Yet, I still am typing. Life just consists of so much excitement. Writing about couches all day. Be jealous.
There is one next to me. I would like to sit on it. It looks so comfortable…but I am so tired. I don’t wanna move. It’s way too early to be awake right now. Maybe I could just sleep on it. That would be delightful. A nice nap. I am seriously typing about sleep I am so tired. That couch has never been so tempting.
I sat my plump bottom down on the firm cotton of the sofa, stretching my fingertips out across the textured cloth, wondering if right now somebody else in the world was marveling at something as simple as a couch.
I sat on the couch and surf the ‘net looking for some misspelled blog posts. Life is so bland
somewhere to sit and do nothing for lots of hours , comfy, potatoes, flopping into the middle and going out through the other side into a wonderland, marshmellow softness, some are rubbish and scratched by cats.
I’m sitting on one. It has held up several people and absorbed several things. So much could be said of us by the quick flick of a blacklight… Maybe a chemical analysis could be done. I’d be interested to see the atoms that this couch has taken in on top of the ones it came with. It’s amazing to think this couch came from materials that were once found in nature, and now it has turned into something much less so.
Couch. How much time you spend on a couch is a great way to measure how effectively you manage your time. People who use their time well won’t be sitting on the couch, the opposite the latter.
there was a couch, it was old and raggard and no one loved it anymore. it was shoved outside, rained on, and eventually it started disintegrating. one day a cat came and sat on it. it loved it. but it too scratched the couch and the couch was eventually just gone.
I remember the day perfectly. I was sitting on the couch when I heard the news of his death. In that moment, I had no emotion. I has empty of everything. I remained on that couch for what seemed like days. It is the first thing I think of when I hear the word ‘couch.’
Don’t think. Just write. I want to sit on the couch, instead I’m at my desk trying to get my work finished in time before my favourite show on tv starts. What is that show again? Is it Bewitched? Is it I Dream of jeanni
Couch, a beautiful, amazing place of rest. Come on all shapes and colours and sizes. You are so comfortable and I love you! COUCH! LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE!
Comfortable place of rest, i love it!!!!! I love you couch!
Purple? love
I am sitting on you right now, you are leather and deep deep brown and so so beautiful! I love you couch you are amazing!
its comfy… little (if poor) large (if rich). I sit on it when i shouldn’t. It hurts my back when it should love me. I blow into it.. inflatable couch.
couch…the piece of furniture i’d love to have, but i haven’t acquired a really good one yet. perhaps when i get my hands on a good couch, that’s when i settle down somewhere. till then, i’ll just roam.
I remember the couch fondly- us, her, me….. Those long nights wrapped around eachother touching, kissing and loving it being just us, and our couch….
Sitting, relaxing, enjoying a magazine or watching your favourite tv show. Whatever it is the couch is second best to your bed.
The place to rest, the place to be. After a hard day. A place to lay your head and forget your troubles. To take a nap or to accidentally fall to sleep. I wish i was there. And not in front of my PC.
sitting in a couch lazy as i can be looking at my celling seeing the mystery tree, how did i end here and where is the meaning i look at my couch and see a relief. Laying down at the brink of a sleep is this a dream or reality.
The couch – it lets you sit. It is home for many, and I love my home, like others do as well. Where would we be without couch? Homeless! There is no home, without a couch. I love my home; I love my couch.
sherlock curled over on the couch, his hair hanging in his face. he couldn’t quite reach the remote from here and the tv was even further away, the book he was reading was under john’s bed somewhere, and he was so entirely bored but even more entirely lazy. he was tired and apathetic and all he wanted to do was fuck some shit up.
The couch was old and worn and it had to go. But she couldn’t do it. She couldnt get rid of it. It had been a part of their family for so long. All those stains had a meaning, a place, a memory attached to them. The long nights of holding a sick, fevered child, the spot where red wine had spilled after the disastrous New Years party, the oil from all the popcorn when they squished all together for family movie night.
a couch is where i would lay when i honestly have nothing to do because most of my time is spent either playing my violin standing up, eating, in bed, or on my computer. i like someone so i’m trying to understand what he likes, and i’m making myself watch the tv program he likes so i can talk to him more…
maybe soon as it is getting late around here aND I’M IN NEED OF REST!
I wish I had a big, comfy couch that was filled with all kinds of magical animals and furry creatures that love to be held and played with and loved. That way whenever I’m lonely I can just go to my big couch and play with the animals. That would be sweet.