After working eight hours at DiJono’s Pizzeria, I finally get my free meal a day. Mrs. DiJono hands me a slice of pizza and a box of three breadsticks. “Thanks,” I mutter.
With the salary I get, she could have at least offered some pepper.
pepper peter piper picked a pot of pickled pepper salt and pepper lets be honest people prefer salt its just so much tastier and then you have a pepper red orange and green maybe thats where the inspiration for traffic lights came from? my thoughts on pepper its disgusting if im being honest.
Salt and pepper make life taste better. Like food. Sometimes life needs a little something to spruce it up. After all, one gets sick of the taste of plain ordinariness after awhile.
sprinkled across the streets, although nobody quite notices. the baby flecks on the foal’s neck, a twinge across your tongue as you roll the taste in your mouth. colourful or juicy, alone for decoration and shiny like plastic. pop the p’s as you let your indulge in the pure pronunciation of the word.
Pepper is a spice for the living, those who are willing to be shocked a little, to have life take a bite out of them. It brings excitement and the unexpected and when you get too much your body will let you know with sweats and an occasional sneeze.
The scent of pepper tickled the noses of the team as they sat down to eat dinner. A variety of spicy foods and pepper covered foods filled the table and looked delicious. As the team they were they sat as one and began to eat. Sneezes one by one erupted around the table from the pepper in the air and the food and house had to be abandoned because of the spilled pepper.
She threw some Pepper on me to start a friendly fight. I ran over and tried to doge the black dust coming to my face but I couldn’t stop it. It hit my eyes with a burn and went up my nose, while I fell over covering my face and sneezing. “Are you okay?” She said, scared, “I didn’t think it’d hurt you,” she said guilty, she crouched down towards me putting her warm arms around me.
Oh my goodness, I sneezed and sneezed and sneezed! Didn’t throw it over my shoulder though…that’s salt…..glad I don’t have salt/pepper hair! Cousin had that….like my brunette color! Sometimes for warm ups, I peper with a ball…a volleyball that is!What isthe opposite of pepper? Sugar? Syrup? Honey? probably one of the liquids…….
“That’s an unusual name.” That was the second thing I ever said to her. She just shrugged and smiled. “We can’t all be named Mary, you know?” And that moment-amongst a handful of others-was the moment I fell in love with her.
She looked around the produce section for the best looking peppers. She picked the hottest pepper out of the bunch. She knew he hated hot foods, but after what she found out, she really didn’t care. One bite of her deliciously evil chili and her soon to be exboyfriend would never want to talk to her again. He would be feeling this meal for days.
When I was a kid, I always believed that pepper made you sneeze. There’s nothing more satisfying than a huge, full-on sneeze. And, conversely, nothing more frustrating than when the sneeze doesn’t happen. So pepper became a source of some anxiety for me.
That’s why it was the perfect choice for my brother and sister to sprinkle all over my thumb in an anti-thumb-sucking intervention.
The not-so-common addition to food. The left behind, over-shadowed one. The one that’s always picked last. I understand how that feels; I feel the same way sometimes.
Pepper is unnecessary except when used on vegetables. Other than that, it’s rather useless. Peppers, on the other hand, make things spicy and delicious. Noms, food.
He played silently with the salt and pepper shakers. Dancing them across the table in some kind of off-beat waltz. He refused to look up, to meet my gaze. I wish I could read his mind, I wish I knew why he said the things he did earlier; if he meant them or not, I felt like I would never know.
peter piper picked a pack of pickled peppers. sally sells sea shells by the sea shore. peter, peter pumpkin eater had a wife but could not keep her, put her in a pumpkin shell and there he kept her nice and well.
She sat in her kitchen wondering what tonight’s dinner was going to be. She rather enjoyed cooking for herself, sitting out in the balcony of her suite on the12th story. She especially enjoyed adding that last salt and pepper touch to her dishes, on those long alone nights, not lonely. Blissfully alone.
Pepper is the more dangerous spice. It’s dark and exotic and makes people sneeze. If you bite into a big chunk of pepper, it tastes awful. Pepper users live on the edge of good taste and disaster. Myself, I’m a salt person. And I don’t use too much of that.
He peppered my back with kiss, laying on a pile of pillows and blankets on the living room floor. Everything smelled of wood and clean air – Al Green was playing on the ipod. The rumble of the hot tub was coming through the window and the fire pit was outside waiting for us…
Spices perfumed the air, but Beth was having none of it. Every part of the home cooked dinner smelled like patchouli. He hid the diamond ring under the table.
If I was the salt, you were the pepper. you stood by my side no matter what. No matter how the world used us. We contrasted from each other, yet we were the same, we brought the spice and the flavor back into life. And that was always okay. Even if you were dark, you were the other side of my light.
I’m on the road again, seeing the world–and when I stopped at a funny little diner I stole myself a pepper shaker. Now it follows me wherever I go, tucked into the smallest pocket of backpack. The same pocket I keep the toothbrush, toothpaste and your photograph.
pepper…cute. the other day it was salt. so I really cant take this too seriously today. although I could use a good sneeze. And my pepper mill is within reach. Dare I??? Oh what the hell…it’s Saturday so let’s LIVE a little!
The smell of peppers was hanging in the air- a spicy reminder of why we were here. We assessed the damage and looked at each other, knowing full well that this fire had not been an accident. The kitchen was gone. All of my fruits and vegetables, grown with my own hands and sweat, were burned and smoldering.
He was a self-proclaimed connoisseur of all things hot, but once he took a bite of that pepper. The Ghost they called it. He trembled before it’s bite and power.
I’d like to see the face you made if I were to serve up steak.
Peppered steak.
Fillet of small child, maybe,
and faces, filed off
filled with little black specks
like inverted pimples.
Maybe I’d play a game,
and see how long it took you.
Hey, do you like the braised peasant?
See if you think I’m saying
pheasant.
Would you like
a second helping?
Your final words pepper-sprayed my eyes, and unable to speak without breaking, you left me there abandoned as an egg with a shell too weak to ever receive the warmth of without breaking; unable to nurture the life-force that wanted to grow, with all its existence, in my core, my yolk.
–
My shell slowly thinning with the daylight that poked through with its tint of blue like young happy children lifting a bucket lid to watch a hurt bird die..the blue that you flew into, to warmer, happier lands. Leaving me behind to a winter that would never end.
holy moly i spit pepper with all of the hottness i say pepper makes anything hot but it is not the eggs that are hot it is the pepper that is hot one might say oh wow and oh my this egge is pepperly pipping hot..but wait…ok go! it is not the eggs that are hot it is pepper…hey pepper..i respcet your hottness..soon we will collobarate our inner heat to beat mildy behaviour outttt hurrr oooow! ;D
the pepper sprinkled itself over the wide expanse of no, not pizza, never just pizza, of his artwork, and the chef smiled to himself with his own appreciation of the masterpiece he had just created, cooing and marveling and practically worshipping the italian delicacy. “order up!” came the cranky voice of his boss, and the artist scowled.
I almost said bitter, but bitter is to butter, or so the old rhyme said, allegedly Peter made it better. He bought better butter and made the bitter butter better.
Garlicky! There goes a new word, not sure it has made it to the dictionary. Yeah, it can only be a distant cousin to Garlic, we use quite alot anyway, even to muff off the cold cough.
Vegetarian? Maybe a vegetable is more appropriate. The truth is i hate vegetables, generally. It would even be much worse, if it is garling, nay sweaty and nauseating as chilli pepper. I guess though i shouldnt be as mean, maybe pepper is not all chill! Green pepper could be healthy and tasty, so great a flavour to meals. I suppose even the red variety is great, i have friends from the orient who claim so, and i would have no reason to doubt them.
I guess, eventually pepper has its place, chili hot or otherwise, i may not be a big fun, but who am to say pepper could never be better. Enjoy the thrill!
I sneezed as I looked at the near empty jar that he left behind. He always did like pepper. He added it to everything he made, when he did make anything. I stared at the glass jar for a long time, just thinking of him, and it made me sad at how much I was thinking of it, as thinking of him made me sad.
She began to toss the peppers in the skillet. “What are you making?” the young child asked her mother. “Fajitas. Now can you please set the table like I asked?” “..Yes ma’am.” The scent of the peppers filled the room.
Pepper. That was the name of an orphan in ‘Annie’, right? Pepper? Was she the one who went to the movies? It’s a cute name, though. What a creative idea, to name your daughter Pepper! If not a bit of a crazy one…
In Alice in Wonderland, the duchess is sitting in a kitchen holding a baby (that eventually turns into a pig), and the kitchen is filled with pepper. The cook is making stew with a toxic amount of pepper. I just like the word.
After working eight hours at DiJono’s Pizzeria, I finally get my free meal a day. Mrs. DiJono hands me a slice of pizza and a box of three breadsticks. “Thanks,” I mutter.
With the salary I get, she could have at least offered some pepper.
pepper peter piper picked a pot of pickled pepper salt and pepper lets be honest people prefer salt its just so much tastier and then you have a pepper red orange and green maybe thats where the inspiration for traffic lights came from? my thoughts on pepper its disgusting if im being honest.
Salt and pepper make life taste better. Like food. Sometimes life needs a little something to spruce it up. After all, one gets sick of the taste of plain ordinariness after awhile.
sprinkled across the streets, although nobody quite notices. the baby flecks on the foal’s neck, a twinge across your tongue as you roll the taste in your mouth. colourful or juicy, alone for decoration and shiny like plastic. pop the p’s as you let your indulge in the pure pronunciation of the word.
Pepper is a spice for the living, those who are willing to be shocked a little, to have life take a bite out of them. It brings excitement and the unexpected and when you get too much your body will let you know with sweats and an occasional sneeze.
The scent of pepper tickled the noses of the team as they sat down to eat dinner. A variety of spicy foods and pepper covered foods filled the table and looked delicious. As the team they were they sat as one and began to eat. Sneezes one by one erupted around the table from the pepper in the air and the food and house had to be abandoned because of the spilled pepper.
She threw some Pepper on me to start a friendly fight. I ran over and tried to doge the black dust coming to my face but I couldn’t stop it. It hit my eyes with a burn and went up my nose, while I fell over covering my face and sneezing. “Are you okay?” She said, scared, “I didn’t think it’d hurt you,” she said guilty, she crouched down towards me putting her warm arms around me.
Oh my goodness, I sneezed and sneezed and sneezed! Didn’t throw it over my shoulder though…that’s salt…..glad I don’t have salt/pepper hair! Cousin had that….like my brunette color! Sometimes for warm ups, I peper with a ball…a volleyball that is!What isthe opposite of pepper? Sugar? Syrup? Honey? probably one of the liquids…….
“That’s an unusual name.” That was the second thing I ever said to her. She just shrugged and smiled. “We can’t all be named Mary, you know?” And that moment-amongst a handful of others-was the moment I fell in love with her.
She looked around the produce section for the best looking peppers. She picked the hottest pepper out of the bunch. She knew he hated hot foods, but after what she found out, she really didn’t care. One bite of her deliciously evil chili and her soon to be exboyfriend would never want to talk to her again. He would be feeling this meal for days.
When I was a kid, I always believed that pepper made you sneeze. There’s nothing more satisfying than a huge, full-on sneeze. And, conversely, nothing more frustrating than when the sneeze doesn’t happen. So pepper became a source of some anxiety for me.
That’s why it was the perfect choice for my brother and sister to sprinkle all over my thumb in an anti-thumb-sucking intervention.
I am always looking for black pepper for eating with corn on the cob. I like to put it all over the cob. It adds so much flavor.
The not-so-common addition to food. The left behind, over-shadowed one. The one that’s always picked last. I understand how that feels; I feel the same way sometimes.
Pepper is unnecessary except when used on vegetables. Other than that, it’s rather useless. Peppers, on the other hand, make things spicy and delicious. Noms, food.
He played silently with the salt and pepper shakers. Dancing them across the table in some kind of off-beat waltz. He refused to look up, to meet my gaze. I wish I could read his mind, I wish I knew why he said the things he did earlier; if he meant them or not, I felt like I would never know.
peter piper picked a pack of pickled peppers. sally sells sea shells by the sea shore. peter, peter pumpkin eater had a wife but could not keep her, put her in a pumpkin shell and there he kept her nice and well.
The garden is full of peppers: red and green and orange and yellow and things in between. She doesn’t really grow anything else.
She sat in her kitchen wondering what tonight’s dinner was going to be. She rather enjoyed cooking for herself, sitting out in the balcony of her suite on the12th story. She especially enjoyed adding that last salt and pepper touch to her dishes, on those long alone nights, not lonely. Blissfully alone.
Pepper is the more dangerous spice. It’s dark and exotic and makes people sneeze. If you bite into a big chunk of pepper, it tastes awful. Pepper users live on the edge of good taste and disaster. Myself, I’m a salt person. And I don’t use too much of that.
He peppered my back with kiss, laying on a pile of pillows and blankets on the living room floor. Everything smelled of wood and clean air – Al Green was playing on the ipod. The rumble of the hot tub was coming through the window and the fire pit was outside waiting for us…
Spices perfumed the air, but Beth was having none of it. Every part of the home cooked dinner smelled like patchouli. He hid the diamond ring under the table.
If I was the salt, you were the pepper. you stood by my side no matter what. No matter how the world used us. We contrasted from each other, yet we were the same, we brought the spice and the flavor back into life. And that was always okay. Even if you were dark, you were the other side of my light.
A sneeze was all it took for me to find you.
You thought you could hide.
The pepper gave you away.
Going undercover as a cook,
Was the best way to find you.
*sniff* aaaaacchhhhhhhooooooooooooooooo!
I’m on the road again, seeing the world–and when I stopped at a funny little diner I stole myself a pepper shaker. Now it follows me wherever I go, tucked into the smallest pocket of backpack. The same pocket I keep the toothbrush, toothpaste and your photograph.
pepper…cute. the other day it was salt. so I really cant take this too seriously today. although I could use a good sneeze. And my pepper mill is within reach. Dare I??? Oh what the hell…it’s Saturday so let’s LIVE a little!
The smell of peppers was hanging in the air- a spicy reminder of why we were here. We assessed the damage and looked at each other, knowing full well that this fire had not been an accident. The kitchen was gone. All of my fruits and vegetables, grown with my own hands and sweat, were burned and smoldering.
He was a self-proclaimed connoisseur of all things hot, but once he took a bite of that pepper. The Ghost they called it. He trembled before it’s bite and power.
I’d like to see the face you made if I were to serve up steak.
Peppered steak.
Fillet of small child, maybe,
and faces, filed off
filled with little black specks
like inverted pimples.
Maybe I’d play a game,
and see how long it took you.
Hey, do you like the braised peasant?
See if you think I’m saying
pheasant.
Would you like
a second helping?
pepper assaults my nostrils as it cooks into the food. i once knew a girl named pepper she was an albino
Your final words pepper-sprayed my eyes, and unable to speak without breaking, you left me there abandoned as an egg with a shell too weak to ever receive the warmth of without breaking; unable to nurture the life-force that wanted to grow, with all its existence, in my core, my yolk.
–
My shell slowly thinning with the daylight that poked through with its tint of blue like young happy children lifting a bucket lid to watch a hurt bird die..the blue that you flew into, to warmer, happier lands. Leaving me behind to a winter that would never end.
holy moly i spit pepper with all of the hottness i say pepper makes anything hot but it is not the eggs that are hot it is the pepper that is hot one might say oh wow and oh my this egge is pepperly pipping hot..but wait…ok go! it is not the eggs that are hot it is pepper…hey pepper..i respcet your hottness..soon we will collobarate our inner heat to beat mildy behaviour outttt hurrr oooow! ;D
the pepper sprinkled itself over the wide expanse of no, not pizza, never just pizza, of his artwork, and the chef smiled to himself with his own appreciation of the masterpiece he had just created, cooing and marveling and practically worshipping the italian delicacy. “order up!” came the cranky voice of his boss, and the artist scowled.
Though he only heard the single shot, the house was peppered with bits of hot metallic fragments.
I almost said bitter, but bitter is to butter, or so the old rhyme said, allegedly Peter made it better. He bought better butter and made the bitter butter better.
Garlicky! There goes a new word, not sure it has made it to the dictionary. Yeah, it can only be a distant cousin to Garlic, we use quite alot anyway, even to muff off the cold cough.
Vegetarian? Maybe a vegetable is more appropriate. The truth is i hate vegetables, generally. It would even be much worse, if it is garling, nay sweaty and nauseating as chilli pepper. I guess though i shouldnt be as mean, maybe pepper is not all chill! Green pepper could be healthy and tasty, so great a flavour to meals. I suppose even the red variety is great, i have friends from the orient who claim so, and i would have no reason to doubt them.
I guess, eventually pepper has its place, chili hot or otherwise, i may not be a big fun, but who am to say pepper could never be better. Enjoy the thrill!
I sneezed as I looked at the near empty jar that he left behind. He always did like pepper. He added it to everything he made, when he did make anything. I stared at the glass jar for a long time, just thinking of him, and it made me sad at how much I was thinking of it, as thinking of him made me sad.
She began to toss the peppers in the skillet. “What are you making?” the young child asked her mother. “Fajitas. Now can you please set the table like I asked?” “..Yes ma’am.” The scent of the peppers filled the room.
Pepper. That was the name of an orphan in ‘Annie’, right? Pepper? Was she the one who went to the movies? It’s a cute name, though. What a creative idea, to name your daughter Pepper! If not a bit of a crazy one…
“Say it after me, OK?”
Maisie sat there as Carmen tried to get her to speak.
“Sprepper. Sprep. Per. Sprepper.”
“PEPPER!” Maisie exclaimed. She bounced in her high chair and clapped, seemingly amused by Carmen’s growing frustration.
“Why can’t she just say ‘sprepper’? It’s so confusing!”
“Carmen, stop trying to make ‘sprepper’ work,” said Maisie’s mom.
In Alice in Wonderland, the duchess is sitting in a kitchen holding a baby (that eventually turns into a pig), and the kitchen is filled with pepper. The cook is making stew with a toxic amount of pepper. I just like the word.