stciks are really cool , they go into places , they are smalls , u can shapes with them and with each other , they are so cute and useful and they stick into places they remind me of a lot of stuff like man package.
Sticks. Makes me think of dogs. My dog is currently chewing the crap out of an elephant. It’s filled with green fluff. I want a new dog, a little tiny Husky puppie.
sticks have all types of uses. one can use them to beat their friends or just to tease other people. however, sticks are very helpful in building a fire as well. when you are unable to make a fire using large pieces of woods, sticks are best in that situation because a stick lights faster than a wood piece..
Life is but a whole round of sticks trying to placed around us, trying to detain us from fulfilling our purpose. We are all but a single stick, trying to walk up to our purpose. We are a tree that is trying its best to produce fruit and to bear life. We are trying to look like a good tree, so that it doesn’t become taken away by the axe and replaced by another tree.
it sticks like vicks under your nose and the hot icey smile licks your frontal lobe. now that your sinuses are clear you realize that it’s been your mind the whole time that’s needed clearing.
Sticks are fun to pick up and throw around, I like to look for different kinds of drift wood on beaches. I found a cool stick on the beach a few weeks ago. I like the word “sticks”
Sticks are trees. Weird little pieces of trees. There’s this picture that is just awesome of this lemur holding a stick. It is no shit the best picture of all time. Sticks can be used to hit people, hell even kill people. Sticks are hardcore, no doubt. Sticks can be used as stirrers or to make…
Several sticks line the way to his house. I love him. He is the kind of person that would take a stick and make something beautiful from it. Like the hut he built on the island off the coast of Mozambique. A sanctuary for a broken soul. Some days, I still think back and reminisce on the beauty of the place.
‘ Well i’ll just show the stinker’ said farmer fox. With a longish peice of twig he toppled the Prof’s cap (Made from hazel leaves) feather and all into a muddy pothole. ” Do you think my apparel grows on trees?’ the so proud Prof snarled. Then he thought of himself and haughtilly added “at least not COMMON trees!
She thre the sticks down before the crumbling fireplace and began trying to light a fire. After that she went outside to look for something they could eat.She tried hard to keep occupied in small tasks to prevent herself from worrying about him. The fever had broken the previous night, but he had yet to regain conciousness.
Charlene headed back towards the small hut when she heard a twig crack behind her. Slowly she turned around and gasped in horror as ahe saw the enormous bear lumbering towards her.
Thorn lofted a brow with keen interest in the boy before her. He had been accosting a young girl, thrusting his hedonistic urges upon her in a way most foul. Thorn smiled, a sweet sickly expression that chilled him to the bone. “You like poking your stick into things, eh?” She asked quietly, twirling a small twig in her fingers. The boy gulped and looked at the monster before him with terror. His scream echoed in the metal room as the stick was thrust unceremoniously into his thigh. The sickening crack tugged at Thorn’s smile as the wood splintered off into his muscle.
The old Sticks and Stones may break my bones but words my never hurt me.
That is a lie….
Words can hurt like a knife and can be fatal to those who can’t take it.
If you don’t watch it, they can be worse than sticks
Beneath his breath Professor Fox said ‘feck these gloves they’ve gone somehow faded and limp and limp’. He would have to do better . He knew the lane where the best foxgloves grew as he had
an eye for perfection. Even the pheasant feather in his cap testified
to this–not to mention his walking stick! You should have seen him as he swaggered back down the lane..’Will ya look at that hoor with his head in the air’ said poor farmer fox to himself. And he wooden bidya the time o day!
If you think about how many sticks must be in the forest you will be terribly overwhelmed. My two-year-old nephew always wants “more sticks, Auntie, more sticks!” And that’s just it, there will always be more, with the woods right there. It will be a long while before he’s stuck for a stick.
there were three sticks on the floor. i picked them up and realized they were’mt ordinary sticks. They were wand and that only one worked well for me. I kept the other sticks just in case i needed a back up.
stciks are really cool , they go into places , they are smalls , u can shapes with them and with each other , they are so cute and useful and they stick into places they remind me of a lot of stuff like man package.
Sticks. Makes me think of dogs. My dog is currently chewing the crap out of an elephant. It’s filled with green fluff. I want a new dog, a little tiny Husky puppie.
The fire crackled in front of me and blew out. More fuel needed.
sticks have all types of uses. one can use them to beat their friends or just to tease other people. however, sticks are very helpful in building a fire as well. when you are unable to make a fire using large pieces of woods, sticks are best in that situation because a stick lights faster than a wood piece..
Life is but a whole round of sticks trying to placed around us, trying to detain us from fulfilling our purpose. We are all but a single stick, trying to walk up to our purpose. We are a tree that is trying its best to produce fruit and to bear life. We are trying to look like a good tree, so that it doesn’t become taken away by the axe and replaced by another tree.
it sticks like vicks under your nose and the hot icey smile licks your frontal lobe. now that your sinuses are clear you realize that it’s been your mind the whole time that’s needed clearing.
Sticks are fun to pick up and throw around, I like to look for different kinds of drift wood on beaches. I found a cool stick on the beach a few weeks ago. I like the word “sticks”
Sticks and stones may break my bones, and words will forever hurt me. They call me a slut, the call me a cow, and I guess that’s all I’ll ever be.
Sticks are trees. Weird little pieces of trees. There’s this picture that is just awesome of this lemur holding a stick. It is no shit the best picture of all time. Sticks can be used to hit people, hell even kill people. Sticks are hardcore, no doubt. Sticks can be used as stirrers or to make…
Several sticks line the way to his house. I love him. He is the kind of person that would take a stick and make something beautiful from it. Like the hut he built on the island off the coast of Mozambique. A sanctuary for a broken soul. Some days, I still think back and reminisce on the beauty of the place.
‘ Well i’ll just show the stinker’ said farmer fox. With a longish peice of twig he toppled the Prof’s cap (Made from hazel leaves) feather and all into a muddy pothole. ” Do you think my apparel grows on trees?’ the so proud Prof snarled. Then he thought of himself and haughtilly added “at least not COMMON trees!
She thre the sticks down before the crumbling fireplace and began trying to light a fire. After that she went outside to look for something they could eat.She tried hard to keep occupied in small tasks to prevent herself from worrying about him. The fever had broken the previous night, but he had yet to regain conciousness.
Charlene headed back towards the small hut when she heard a twig crack behind her. Slowly she turned around and gasped in horror as ahe saw the enormous bear lumbering towards her.
Thorn lofted a brow with keen interest in the boy before her. He had been accosting a young girl, thrusting his hedonistic urges upon her in a way most foul. Thorn smiled, a sweet sickly expression that chilled him to the bone. “You like poking your stick into things, eh?” She asked quietly, twirling a small twig in her fingers. The boy gulped and looked at the monster before him with terror. His scream echoed in the metal room as the stick was thrust unceremoniously into his thigh. The sickening crack tugged at Thorn’s smile as the wood splintered off into his muscle.
The old Sticks and Stones may break my bones but words my never hurt me.
That is a lie….
Words can hurt like a knife and can be fatal to those who can’t take it.
If you don’t watch it, they can be worse than sticks
Beneath his breath Professor Fox said ‘feck these gloves they’ve gone somehow faded and limp and limp’. He would have to do better . He knew the lane where the best foxgloves grew as he had
an eye for perfection. Even the pheasant feather in his cap testified
to this–not to mention his walking stick! You should have seen him as he swaggered back down the lane..’Will ya look at that hoor with his head in the air’ said poor farmer fox to himself. And he wooden bidya the time o day!
“Sticks and stones will break my bones..but names will never hurt me!” Sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me..
Drum sticks, playing the rythm of a dying world, the beat of my thoughts and my soul.
trolololololololol, they’re stickish :D
You can’t beat a good stick :’)
Sticks are fun to do many things with. My granddaughters use them to make villages for the garden fairies to come to our yard;)
If you think about how many sticks must be in the forest you will be terribly overwhelmed. My two-year-old nephew always wants “more sticks, Auntie, more sticks!” And that’s just it, there will always be more, with the woods right there. It will be a long while before he’s stuck for a stick.
sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips excite me.
NA NA NA NA COME ON.
there were three sticks on the floor. i picked them up and realized they were’mt ordinary sticks. They were wand and that only one worked well for me. I kept the other sticks just in case i needed a back up.