pizza crust is amazing. crust makes me think about the crust on the earth. it makes me think of something dryish and crusty kinda like your eyelashes in the morning. the one that on pizza is only good when there is cheese in it. i really like cheese the pizza crust at 500 degrees is good and so is the one from dominos where they filled with spices and more and more mazzorella and such. Crust shouldnt be hard and crunchy, the kind that is soft is the best.
You’d think that they would give you the whole thing, the whole pizza, but no. This place, they simply cut off the edges and then tell you that you’re having the best meal you’ve ever had. It’s hard to believe them especially when she’s sitting across from me not saying a word. She’s sad again. I can tell. Her eyes won’t even look up. I mean she looked at the waiter, but it’s like I am not even there. Somehow it hurts her to even look at me.
Jerry’s favorite thing to eat was crust. It didn’t matter what kind of crust. It could be pizza crust, brownie crust, or even the crust of the earth. He just really loved crust. His mom thinks he has a problem, but he doesn’t think so. It’s perfectly normal for someone to enjoy crust.
“Astor, really, you ought to pay more attention to your activities while you’re doing them.”
“Huh. I never even noticed that I don’t like crusts. Why wouldn’t I like crusts?” Bewildered, Astor took one of the crusts he had neatly sliced off of his sandwich bread and took a tentative bite. He made a face. “WHY DOES ANYONE LIKE CRUSTS?”
crust. i used to hate it. mom always told me it’d make my hair grow. but she lied. i thought it tasted crusty and wasnt the better part of the sandwhich. i started cutting it off but it wasnt a complete sandwhich. its apart of it. it belongs there i soppose. so its there.
I love to bake, I’ve never made my own crust before though. I want to try that, but I don’t have all the tools I’d need to get it done. It is just so easy to go buy a pre-made crust at the store. I guess it’s like that saying….it matters what is inside? haha Though the crust makes it that much better too!
The crust crunched and crunched in my mouth. It reminded me of the sound Paul’s head made after I threw the brick at his head. I kept chewing and then slowly swallowed.
THe crusty, old woman reached her arm to the young boy as he pulled away in disgust. “Spare some change, lad?” she asked weakly, trembling in her raggedy clothes. The boy winced and turned away. I have nothing to give you.
Well once I had a scar that looked like a bread crust. I´m not sure about the meaning of crust. I´m mexican, therefore my native language is spanish. I think it´s something that has to do with bread, but.. I guess I´ll never really know.
I stood at the helm, gripping with white knuckles. All around me people were screaming orders, their voices cracking like the crust of the planet far ahead. Far below. Above, it didn’t matter. It was breaking apart, titanic forces ripping the earth asunder with terrifying silence. Why.
look beyond my outer crust
and you’ll see a burning core
nearly forgotten
under layers of rock
and artifacts
oh shit
here comes an archealogist
i hope they have a fire extinguisher!
I dont like crust! i think they taste bad and when they are on a hamburger bun they get burnt and crust. When i was little i would make my dad cut the crusts off of my sandwich. i guess i’ve gotten more tolerant of the crusts. Except i feed then to my dog. :P
pizza crust. it’s really good when they’re stuffed crust. or like the crust of the earth in science, that’s like the most important part or something, i think. i like science. and pizza. or like a crusty person. or the crust on milk gallons or like no one likes the first crust or piece of bread.
you still don’t eat your crust. since we were children you never did. you always left it behind. tenderly leaving it on the crumpled wrappings. ever since we were kids.
crust of bread is a thing. i got buried in my own crust. i wanted another life. it was unreal. i wanted to see the sun and not be afraid of the burn. i wanted to live again.
The pie crust was never her favorite part. It was dry, flaky, tasteless. At least, that was the case with normal pies. But the crust on this pie? The crust on this pie was delicious, so moist and sweet.
crust” it reminds me of pie, of the earth’s layers, of dirt and rugged and edgy. It reminds me of grit and being dirty, but why? it shouldn’t, but it doe. i suppose it means different things to everybody, so why not be imaginative?
You throw the crust into the empty pizza box, and I laugh at you. Aren’t you a bit old for that? Indian style on an un-sanded wooden floor, we sit in a skeleton of a house, next to the bare fireplace. The entire ceiling is a skylight–unfinished and letting in the dying sun. My bare feet kick a nail out of the way, then I reach for your leftovers and finish it for you.
crust is my most hated part of the pizza until recently when i found mixing it with a little bit of pizza is amazing, and i love it together, i think the crust somehow increases the deliciousness of the pizza. It’s weird that i went so many years with out doing it and now i do it all the time, sometimes i’ll take a bit out of all three corners of the triangular piece
Daniel only liked the crust. He was a bizarre kid, but whenever his parents, or friends, or anyone ordered pizza, he’d only eat the crust. This happened so much, it became a defining feature of him. He was occasionally known as “The kid who only eats the crust”
And in his tiny kitchen with the blue wallpaper, a day’s worth of dishes piled up in his sink, I came to the sinking realization that I knew almost nothing about this man I had run off with. I knew his favorite color, and his middle name, and that he didn’t eat the crust on his bread (then again, who does?); but little else came to mind after that. Maybe his body was achingly familiar to me now, but his mind, it became clear, was uncharted territory.
Crust has me thinking of many delicious things to eat. Let me list a few, pizza, pie, peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and quiche just to name a few. I just love crust when it is crunchy and crumbly.
Oh peanut butter and jelly crust, how i hate thee so. You serve no point other then to keep the filling in. But i guess ill have to live with you, or cut you away, sigh. My 1st world problem left unsolved. As other people in the world is starving and would love to even have my crust. I’m so selfish…
He carefully sliced through the sandwich, cutting it precisely into small triangles before setting it in front of his son. The four year old smiled at him happily.
He didn’t realize, at the time, that it would be the last time he ever saw that smile.
Tony always liked the crusts cut off his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, even after he turned 18. He left home, went off to college like all the other well behaved kids in his town, and in the cafeteria he’d have to painstakingly peel the crusts off his sandwiches. It was in those moments that he missed his mother.
I want you to cut the crust off my sandwiches. And I want to feed it to the birds. And when the birds come, I want to run away. And I want to eat my sandwich together with you on a bench in the park, and we won’t notice any of the people around us.
“Hamburgers are supposed to go on hamburger buns,” the boy with the hair that outcropped over his forehead said, “Not on toast bread.” He tore away the edges, carelessly, cutting corners, so that the edge of the patty was exposed to the air.
“Don’t you have white bread?” another boy asked Mary. “I’m allergic to wheat.”
“Jacob, don’t throw the crust away,” a third boy said, with unbuttoned sleeves that trailed into his plate, “You can dip it into ketchup. Like this. It’s yummy that way.”
“This burger is tasteless,” a fourth boy said, “what is it made of, denatured cows?”
“It’s a veggie burger,” Mary said. “Soy protein.”
“Soy?! I’m allergic to soybeans!” The second boy coughed up his bite and vomited it out. “What are you trying to do, poison us?”
Who are these people, Mary suddenly thought, and why am I cooking for them? Chairs scratched against the wood and then faded. She opened her eyes and the quiet ceiling reassured her, it’s a dream. Silence padded her dorm room. A row of X’s on her calendar opposite reminded her it was Saturday, and the day of the potluck. No, no, no, she thought, why had she agreed to participate?
i want bread i really want bread i haven’t eaten for days and i really want bread i really want to teat i want to have sustenance and i want to survive i have a will to live and i will get that bread and i will get what i need to live even if it is one simple crust even if it is only a measly simple piece of crust
Crust, the best part of a sandwich. I remember being a kid and begging my mom to take it off. Cutting my sandwhich into perfect triangles. One thing that happens when you grow up, liking crust.
pizza crust is amazing. crust makes me think about the crust on the earth. it makes me think of something dryish and crusty kinda like your eyelashes in the morning. the one that on pizza is only good when there is cheese in it. i really like cheese the pizza crust at 500 degrees is good and so is the one from dominos where they filled with spices and more and more mazzorella and such. Crust shouldnt be hard and crunchy, the kind that is soft is the best.
You’d think that they would give you the whole thing, the whole pizza, but no. This place, they simply cut off the edges and then tell you that you’re having the best meal you’ve ever had. It’s hard to believe them especially when she’s sitting across from me not saying a word. She’s sad again. I can tell. Her eyes won’t even look up. I mean she looked at the waiter, but it’s like I am not even there. Somehow it hurts her to even look at me.
Jerry’s favorite thing to eat was crust. It didn’t matter what kind of crust. It could be pizza crust, brownie crust, or even the crust of the earth. He just really loved crust. His mom thinks he has a problem, but he doesn’t think so. It’s perfectly normal for someone to enjoy crust.
“You like the crusts cut off?”
“What?”
“You’re cutting the crust off your sandwich.”
“I am?”
“Astor, really, you ought to pay more attention to your activities while you’re doing them.”
“Huh. I never even noticed that I don’t like crusts. Why wouldn’t I like crusts?” Bewildered, Astor took one of the crusts he had neatly sliced off of his sandwich bread and took a tentative bite. He made a face. “WHY DOES ANYONE LIKE CRUSTS?”
crust. i used to hate it. mom always told me it’d make my hair grow. but she lied. i thought it tasted crusty and wasnt the better part of the sandwhich. i started cutting it off but it wasnt a complete sandwhich. its apart of it. it belongs there i soppose. so its there.
I love to bake, I’ve never made my own crust before though. I want to try that, but I don’t have all the tools I’d need to get it done. It is just so easy to go buy a pre-made crust at the store. I guess it’s like that saying….it matters what is inside? haha Though the crust makes it that much better too!
The crust crunched and crunched in my mouth. It reminded me of the sound Paul’s head made after I threw the brick at his head. I kept chewing and then slowly swallowed.
THe crusty, old woman reached her arm to the young boy as he pulled away in disgust. “Spare some change, lad?” she asked weakly, trembling in her raggedy clothes. The boy winced and turned away. I have nothing to give you.
Well once I had a scar that looked like a bread crust. I´m not sure about the meaning of crust. I´m mexican, therefore my native language is spanish. I think it´s something that has to do with bread, but.. I guess I´ll never really know.
I stood at the helm, gripping with white knuckles. All around me people were screaming orders, their voices cracking like the crust of the planet far ahead. Far below. Above, it didn’t matter. It was breaking apart, titanic forces ripping the earth asunder with terrifying silence. Why.
look beyond my outer crust
and you’ll see a burning core
nearly forgotten
under layers of rock
and artifacts
oh shit
here comes an archealogist
i hope they have a fire extinguisher!
Her wound never healed and the crust of it looked weary, for attempting again and again to cover it.
I dont like crust! i think they taste bad and when they are on a hamburger bun they get burnt and crust. When i was little i would make my dad cut the crusts off of my sandwich. i guess i’ve gotten more tolerant of the crusts. Except i feed then to my dog. :P
pizza crust. it’s really good when they’re stuffed crust. or like the crust of the earth in science, that’s like the most important part or something, i think. i like science. and pizza. or like a crusty person. or the crust on milk gallons or like no one likes the first crust or piece of bread.
you still don’t eat your crust. since we were children you never did. you always left it behind. tenderly leaving it on the crumpled wrappings. ever since we were kids.
the crust of the earth is full of people
sounds like the sound of the bread breaking
cr
crust of bread is a thing. i got buried in my own crust. i wanted another life. it was unreal. i wanted to see the sun and not be afraid of the burn. i wanted to live again.
The pie crust was never her favorite part. It was dry, flaky, tasteless. At least, that was the case with normal pies. But the crust on this pie? The crust on this pie was delicious, so moist and sweet.
crust” it reminds me of pie, of the earth’s layers, of dirt and rugged and edgy. It reminds me of grit and being dirty, but why? it shouldn’t, but it doe. i suppose it means different things to everybody, so why not be imaginative?
She only wanted more of the crust. But she couldn’t be picky. Not in front of this crowd.
So she ate the cherry filling despite the allergic reaction.
You throw the crust into the empty pizza box, and I laugh at you. Aren’t you a bit old for that? Indian style on an un-sanded wooden floor, we sit in a skeleton of a house, next to the bare fireplace. The entire ceiling is a skylight–unfinished and letting in the dying sun. My bare feet kick a nail out of the way, then I reach for your leftovers and finish it for you.
Crust. I used to not eat the crust off of my toast. I thought I’d get sick from it when I was younger.
But then I ate it when I got older and realized… it’s pretty damn good.
I’ve been missing out on so much.
It’s like I’ve never lived BEFORE!
crust is my most hated part of the pizza until recently when i found mixing it with a little bit of pizza is amazing, and i love it together, i think the crust somehow increases the deliciousness of the pizza. It’s weird that i went so many years with out doing it and now i do it all the time, sometimes i’ll take a bit out of all three corners of the triangular piece
Crust is the fabulous dessert to any pizza, the fantastic crunchy end piece of desire.. crust is the beast of the beauty and the delight of mankind.
One day I was eating a sandwich. The sandwich had no crust.
he was a strange little boy. instead of peeling the crust off to eat the sandwich he peeled it off to eat just that. the crust.
Daniel only liked the crust. He was a bizarre kid, but whenever his parents, or friends, or anyone ordered pizza, he’d only eat the crust. This happened so much, it became a defining feature of him. He was occasionally known as “The kid who only eats the crust”
Penny cried and cried and cried. There was no consoling her. Mommy always cut the crusts off her sandwiches.
And in his tiny kitchen with the blue wallpaper, a day’s worth of dishes piled up in his sink, I came to the sinking realization that I knew almost nothing about this man I had run off with. I knew his favorite color, and his middle name, and that he didn’t eat the crust on his bread (then again, who does?); but little else came to mind after that. Maybe his body was achingly familiar to me now, but his mind, it became clear, was uncharted territory.
Crust has me thinking of many delicious things to eat. Let me list a few, pizza, pie, peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and quiche just to name a few. I just love crust when it is crunchy and crumbly.
the edge of the bread. the earth’s crust
Oh peanut butter and jelly crust, how i hate thee so. You serve no point other then to keep the filling in. But i guess ill have to live with you, or cut you away, sigh. My 1st world problem left unsolved. As other people in the world is starving and would love to even have my crust. I’m so selfish…
He carefully sliced through the sandwich, cutting it precisely into small triangles before setting it in front of his son. The four year old smiled at him happily.
He didn’t realize, at the time, that it would be the last time he ever saw that smile.
Tony always liked the crusts cut off his peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, even after he turned 18. He left home, went off to college like all the other well behaved kids in his town, and in the cafeteria he’d have to painstakingly peel the crusts off his sandwiches. It was in those moments that he missed his mother.
I want you to cut the crust off my sandwiches. And I want to feed it to the birds. And when the birds come, I want to run away. And I want to eat my sandwich together with you on a bench in the park, and we won’t notice any of the people around us.
“Hamburgers are supposed to go on hamburger buns,” the boy with the hair that outcropped over his forehead said, “Not on toast bread.” He tore away the edges, carelessly, cutting corners, so that the edge of the patty was exposed to the air.
“Don’t you have white bread?” another boy asked Mary. “I’m allergic to wheat.”
“Jacob, don’t throw the crust away,” a third boy said, with unbuttoned sleeves that trailed into his plate, “You can dip it into ketchup. Like this. It’s yummy that way.”
“This burger is tasteless,” a fourth boy said, “what is it made of, denatured cows?”
“It’s a veggie burger,” Mary said. “Soy protein.”
“Soy?! I’m allergic to soybeans!” The second boy coughed up his bite and vomited it out. “What are you trying to do, poison us?”
Who are these people, Mary suddenly thought, and why am I cooking for them? Chairs scratched against the wood and then faded. She opened her eyes and the quiet ceiling reassured her, it’s a dream. Silence padded her dorm room. A row of X’s on her calendar opposite reminded her it was Saturday, and the day of the potluck. No, no, no, she thought, why had she agreed to participate?
Billy had to cut the crust off of his kids’ peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
Breaking through the tectonic plate, admiral Jeffers thought, was a mighty achievement. Damn mighty.
i want bread i really want bread i haven’t eaten for days and i really want bread i really want to teat i want to have sustenance and i want to survive i have a will to live and i will get that bread and i will get what i need to live even if it is one simple crust even if it is only a measly simple piece of crust
Crust, the best part of a sandwich. I remember being a kid and begging my mom to take it off. Cutting my sandwhich into perfect triangles. One thing that happens when you grow up, liking crust.