Distributor is firm which a manufacturer chooses to sell their products in a specific region. Due to globalization, there is increase in trading stuff so people are becoming distributor for foreign goods.
The distributor is a powerful man. How else are we supposed to get exactly what we need. He gives every family exactly how much they need, when they need it. And no one asks questions.
There was knock on the door. Shirley looked at me as if to order I open it. We paper, scissor, rocked for it. I lost. We had no peephole, so I had to ask, “who is it?” There was no response, just bullets through the keyhole.
Distributors call me all the time when I’m at work and trying to help the person in front of me. Helllooo, they’ll drawl, how’s it going up there? Busy? Well, I just wanted to let you know… and then I’m subjected to their pitch for something I would never want to acquire for the library.
Okay, I am seriously looking at this word and there is not much coming into my head. Other than the fact that I’m typing complete bull crap. Alright… uh… let’s see. Distributor. Distributing… um… Okay I got nothing.
i don’t even know what a distrubutor is. it sounds like some sort of electric thing that has to do with distributing electricity through the house. or it sounds like some weird job from a dystopian society. or maybe it it the person who distributes pills in a mental hospital.
a distributor is someone who distributes, obviously. it can be both tangible and intangible. too often in our society we only focus on the tangible distributors, such as those of wealth, and we tend to neglect how there are tons of people out there distributing intangibles that may far outweigh value of tan
hand outs
share. like distributing pamphlets or leaflets or whatever. flyers too. and theres another meaning i don’t remember it though. quite frustrating.
It rattled to life, chugging away like an elephant in labour. Thankfully the distributor cap was not cracked enough so that it would not function, and soon we were speeding down that decrepit highwy, away from everything familiar.
The distributor began his long shift, sliding up to his desk flippantly in his rolling chair. He would not let the dreary feeling of the office hold him back; he was determined to finish the reports he was due before the day was out.
distributor? gosh umm okay. Distributing things to me? Like love, I need love to be distributed to me right this very second cause I’m not feeling any. And I have a whole family! They should distribute some love to me! I really need it… wow this if off topic…
there is not a medicinal marijuana distributor operating out of the same shopping center as the local grocery store. they have quadrupled the amount of foot and vehicle traffic entering and frequenting the area within the last two months. they are mostly rude, loud and park any kinda whicha way they feel. they come crammed in cars like a circus clown act producing passenger after passenger long after one would think the last passenger had exited the vehicle. it’s fun to watch.
The distributor of marijuana is the distributer of something good or bad. The distributor is always the connection, without the distributor their is no originator or user. The originator would be the user and the user would be the originator without the distributor.
I was distributed some nice property the other day. Heh. Get it? Distributive proberty? Math jokes are always fun. They make me laugh. What makes you laugh? Well a
There once was a man. Who distributed candy. He had a van and a puppy. He attracted children, who then called him the distributor due to the distribution of candy.
distribution? Someone who distributes things. But what things? I don’t know, this is quite confusing, not a word I often think about. Also 60 seconds is not a lot of time at all. Perhaps I should better distribute my words.
He used to be a merchant of death. Following in his father’s footsteps, making weapons better, faster, deadlier. He doesn’t do that anymore, but he remembers it clear as day. Knows how it feels, to be guilty for so much.
the man in a church who gives away those little cakes and that sharp wine and you’re on your knees in front of him and he just gives you this blood and flesh you dont really want. you dont want to eat this dry cake and that poison wine. religion is so beautiful and moronic. he’s the distributor. he is. the bishop who gives you those treasures.
You were the distributer of tears
And you let them fall like rain
Because you did not discriminate
Against the rosiness of cheeks
Or the abilities of holding breaths
That tried to push you away
And hole you up inside
they suck sometimes they get the wrong stuff at the wrong places and they don’t even care maybe I’m wrong and maybe they’re just stupid i guess well never know but I’m not supposed to judge so ill give the benefit of the doubt, what do you think?? maybe its harder to get things to were i live and maybe they cant send everything but ill guess we well i wont know for sure until i get the chance to talk to one so maybe im wrong maybe im right.
I awoke one night to find an old man sitting beside my bed puffing smoke casually from a pipe, as though he belonged there. Startled, I sat up, taking the covers with me, pinning them to my chest with a trembling hand.
“Who are you?” I whispered, afraid of the answer.
The old man didn’t even look up. He poured a fiery, glowing liquid from a vile, into his pipe. “I am the distributor.”
Still unclear, I repeated the question. “Sir, who are you, what are you doing here?”
“I’ve been here every night since you were a girl,” replied he. “I bring you your dreams.” He blew a puff of smoke into my face and I awoke.
There, sitting on my night desk, was a long, thin pipe made of wood, an empty vile beside it.
He was a distributor of love. He didn’t expect anything just honesty. He was sweet and cared for my true happiness, he didn’t care if it were him. He was a distributor of kindness. I loved him. And he knew it. Because he was just a friend, who loved me. For me. My mistakes and my flaws and my imperfections
The car stopped on the highway half way between home and school. She hadn’t a clue why. Thew chills that ran up her back gave her pause. She was glad her dad had taught her to check under the hood. The no good son-of a gun, she’d just broken up with had loosed her distributor cap!
My teachers distribute knowledge I suppose but would that be correct? Because in another way they’re not giving us the knowledge they’re just giving us the opportunity of learning it.
I work for an electronics distributor which sounds glamourous i goes but it is not. what it means is that I sit on a floor with a bunch of other people and make the company a shit load of money the majority of which I will never see a dime of. From above I imagine I am indistiquishable from the rest of my collegues.
Today’s the day, we finally get our supply of fresh food for the summer, and after the harsh winter and bitter spring we need the distributor to understand that its not enough to keep us going.
one day, when walking through the woods, I stumbled upon what appeared to be an abandoned village of log cabins. The place was deserted, except for the center of the village, where over 50 people were waiting in a line leading up to a man. This man had a sign around his neck that said “DISTRIBUTOR” and was handing out medicine to everyone.
Handing out fate at the end of the line
So far behind everyone else
Can’t help but wonder about the destinies left over
what’ll it be this time?
what’ll it be this time?
The woman looked around. Where was he? His dark brown hair, tall frame. That perfectly tailored suit; much too expensive for him. Where was he?
The Distributor.
He always delivered just the right thing. Just the right words. He distributed them to people in need.
The Distributor.
Distributor is firm which a manufacturer chooses to sell their products in a specific region. Due to globalization, there is increase in trading stuff so people are becoming distributor for foreign goods.
The distributor is a powerful man. How else are we supposed to get exactly what we need. He gives every family exactly how much they need, when they need it. And no one asks questions.
There was knock on the door. Shirley looked at me as if to order I open it. We paper, scissor, rocked for it. I lost. We had no peephole, so I had to ask, “who is it?” There was no response, just bullets through the keyhole.
Distributors call me all the time when I’m at work and trying to help the person in front of me. Helllooo, they’ll drawl, how’s it going up there? Busy? Well, I just wanted to let you know… and then I’m subjected to their pitch for something I would never want to acquire for the library.
distributor
request
began
initiate
chat
live
remote
control
email management
ticket management
site
score
cricket
game
Okay, I am seriously looking at this word and there is not much coming into my head. Other than the fact that I’m typing complete bull crap. Alright… uh… let’s see. Distributor. Distributing… um… Okay I got nothing.
many people aournd the world giving something to someone
distribution
products
places
trucks
i don’t even know what a distrubutor is. it sounds like some sort of electric thing that has to do with distributing electricity through the house. or it sounds like some weird job from a dystopian society. or maybe it it the person who distributes pills in a mental hospital.
a distributor is someone who distributes, obviously. it can be both tangible and intangible. too often in our society we only focus on the tangible distributors, such as those of wealth, and we tend to neglect how there are tons of people out there distributing intangibles that may far outweigh value of tan
hand outs
share. like distributing pamphlets or leaflets or whatever. flyers too. and theres another meaning i don’t remember it though. quite frustrating.
It rattled to life, chugging away like an elephant in labour. Thankfully the distributor cap was not cracked enough so that it would not function, and soon we were speeding down that decrepit highwy, away from everything familiar.
Life had never been better, or held more promise.
The distributor began his long shift, sliding up to his desk flippantly in his rolling chair. He would not let the dreary feeling of the office hold him back; he was determined to finish the reports he was due before the day was out.
distributor? gosh umm okay. Distributing things to me? Like love, I need love to be distributed to me right this very second cause I’m not feeling any. And I have a whole family! They should distribute some love to me! I really need it… wow this if off topic…
there is not a medicinal marijuana distributor operating out of the same shopping center as the local grocery store. they have quadrupled the amount of foot and vehicle traffic entering and frequenting the area within the last two months. they are mostly rude, loud and park any kinda whicha way they feel. they come crammed in cars like a circus clown act producing passenger after passenger long after one would think the last passenger had exited the vehicle. it’s fun to watch.
The distributor of marijuana is the distributer of something good or bad. The distributor is always the connection, without the distributor their is no originator or user. The originator would be the user and the user would be the originator without the distributor.
I was distributed some nice property the other day. Heh. Get it? Distributive proberty? Math jokes are always fun. They make me laugh. What makes you laugh? Well a
There once was a man. Who distributed candy. He had a van and a puppy. He attracted children, who then called him the distributor due to the distribution of candy.
distribution? Someone who distributes things. But what things? I don’t know, this is quite confusing, not a word I often think about. Also 60 seconds is not a lot of time at all. Perhaps I should better distribute my words.
He used to be a merchant of death. Following in his father’s footsteps, making weapons better, faster, deadlier. He doesn’t do that anymore, but he remembers it clear as day. Knows how it feels, to be guilty for so much.
the man in a church who gives away those little cakes and that sharp wine and you’re on your knees in front of him and he just gives you this blood and flesh you dont really want. you dont want to eat this dry cake and that poison wine. religion is so beautiful and moronic. he’s the distributor. he is. the bishop who gives you those treasures.
He furtively glanced left and right, just to be sure no one would be around to see him make that quick exchange.
I am a distributor of smiles and laughter. I have the power to make people happy. I find my happiness in their happiness.
You were the distributer of tears
And you let them fall like rain
Because you did not discriminate
Against the rosiness of cheeks
Or the abilities of holding breaths
That tried to push you away
And hole you up inside
they suck sometimes they get the wrong stuff at the wrong places and they don’t even care maybe I’m wrong and maybe they’re just stupid i guess well never know but I’m not supposed to judge so ill give the benefit of the doubt, what do you think?? maybe its harder to get things to were i live and maybe they cant send everything but ill guess we well i wont know for sure until i get the chance to talk to one so maybe im wrong maybe im right.
I awoke one night to find an old man sitting beside my bed puffing smoke casually from a pipe, as though he belonged there. Startled, I sat up, taking the covers with me, pinning them to my chest with a trembling hand.
“Who are you?” I whispered, afraid of the answer.
The old man didn’t even look up. He poured a fiery, glowing liquid from a vile, into his pipe. “I am the distributor.”
Still unclear, I repeated the question. “Sir, who are you, what are you doing here?”
“I’ve been here every night since you were a girl,” replied he. “I bring you your dreams.” He blew a puff of smoke into my face and I awoke.
There, sitting on my night desk, was a long, thin pipe made of wood, an empty vile beside it.
He was a distributor of love. He didn’t expect anything just honesty. He was sweet and cared for my true happiness, he didn’t care if it were him. He was a distributor of kindness. I loved him. And he knew it. Because he was just a friend, who loved me. For me. My mistakes and my flaws and my imperfections
the middle man in business. gets goods from one party and sells them to another for profit.
it means a person ho destributes the goods and services to other
the person
Distributors distribute. Obviously. That’s all I can think of. I could have made a story line. Oh well, too late. The bell just rung. My time is up.
The car stopped on the highway half way between home and school. She hadn’t a clue why. Thew chills that ran up her back gave her pause. She was glad her dad had taught her to check under the hood. The no good son-of a gun, she’d just broken up with had loosed her distributor cap!
distributor is a person who does the act of continuously providing something to a client.
My teachers distribute knowledge I suppose but would that be correct? Because in another way they’re not giving us the knowledge they’re just giving us the opportunity of learning it.
distributor caps in car engines are complex yet work exactly like the human brain synapses do in firing off electrical signals.
I work for an electronics distributor which sounds glamourous i goes but it is not. what it means is that I sit on a floor with a bunch of other people and make the company a shit load of money the majority of which I will never see a dime of. From above I imagine I am indistiquishable from the rest of my collegues.
Today’s the day, we finally get our supply of fresh food for the summer, and after the harsh winter and bitter spring we need the distributor to understand that its not enough to keep us going.
one day, when walking through the woods, I stumbled upon what appeared to be an abandoned village of log cabins. The place was deserted, except for the center of the village, where over 50 people were waiting in a line leading up to a man. This man had a sign around his neck that said “DISTRIBUTOR” and was handing out medicine to everyone.
Handing out fate at the end of the line
So far behind everyone else
Can’t help but wonder about the destinies left over
what’ll it be this time?
what’ll it be this time?
a distributor distributes good or any product to his/her suppliers. he only sells on wholesale at a cheaper price than the retailer. this di
Handing out, enabling those who are trying to stay strong. Grab the clouds by their hands, blow smoke in their eyes. Dialate
The woman looked around. Where was he? His dark brown hair, tall frame. That perfectly tailored suit; much too expensive for him. Where was he?
The Distributor.
He always delivered just the right thing. Just the right words. He distributed them to people in need.
The Distributor.