Trailer park children come out like farts and smell just as bad. Chris wants to kill them so we call him racist but honestly their coprses cant stink much more than their AIDS. Oh go I’m so awful. But now thats off topic.
t.r.a.i.l.e.r. It drags, the wheels carrying its load. It bounces and mounds, high and low again, creaking occasionally. Do they notice? Do they mind? Who dares mind, anyways. It isn’t theirs to take pride in.
When I think of trailers I think of large, looming vehicles of transportation. They’re often white, with a truck in front and curtains with flower patterns or green.
I often associate trailers with trailer parks, trailer trash, and rednecks.
my friend lives in a trailer park. she does very well for herself. no one helps herpay for aything and she only has a part time job. so im proud of her because she does what she can.
I’m in a trailer. It’s dark. Gloomy. Abandoned. Is anyone ever coning to find me? I have no idea. All I can think about is the cold, empty silence that surrounds me. It surrounds everything. Engulfs me. It’s dark. Still dark. Cold. Silent. Scared.
The trailer looked intriguing, but Matty had been in film school long enough that he was unimpressed by the effects and suspicious of a story being told in 90 seconds that would be good for a full two hours.
Still, he admired the way the light sent shadows dancing across Lily’s face as she sat beside him and gazed at the screen, entranced. And maybe he could put up with plebeian culture for that.
Trailer trash. Well, I’ve never really thought that was a fair statement. People are always categorizing us as things, not as individuals. Trailers always freak me out though .My grandma had a really nice one, almost a house… Others seem to be embedded with superstitions of mass murderers. Yet Maddy lived in one. How can that be? I claim not to be prejudiced by i suppose that happens in growing up.
Ach. I’ve already written about a trailer today. Maybe, however, this is a different type of trailer. It’s one of those pod-things that you’d attach to the back of a ford f150. I think grandma lives in there. I wonder if the driver knows that she’s still in there? Maybe she’s alive. Maybe not. there are too many doilies hanging from the window to be sure.
she compared it to pizza.
“you know, when you’re at a party, and there’s maybe four or five pizzas, so you really go at it, you don’t stop just to be polite, you stop because you’re just so full that you know you can’t have another piece–it will only make you sick?”
she always talked with too much detail.
“i just wish that we could tell the world, i’m done, i’m out, and the world would take care of it. i’d get stricken with cancer the next day, maybe a car would hit me, maybe i’d die in my bed from godknowswhat. but if the world could just listen like that, you know? cause it feels like it’s time, but…”
her words trailed behind me even as i left the room.
The trailer park was dark and dingy. At least, it appeared that way from the entrance. Some old, mistreated trees tried desperately to stay upright above the entryway. The yellow old lights illuminated the winding rows of mobile homes.
right in the valley. The huge colorado mountains rising up on both sides of us. Riding bikes down the street and strealing old ladies flowers. Getting my neighbor to get us cookies…. neighborhood kids and the giant puddle in the middle of the street deep enough for my little self to wade in.
Well, I was only watching to pass the time. Then: flashes, sounds, descriptions. Memories. Why was the timing so? I remembered it all, just as I had forgotten it. All in 30 seconds of picture, and now, forever.
There was a trailer park, it was quaint, little, homey. You wouldn’t think it whne you hear the word “trailer park.” But it waas. It was the place I called home and I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. I loved it. Never could strip me of it. But trust me I’m not trailer trash.
I’m not too sure about what i could say about the word “trailer” except that i love them when I get to catch them before a movie. I always make elaborate plans to go see all the cool ones and a very rarely enact any of those plans. I guess that makes me a bad person or something. *shrug*
that trailer park over there sure is a dump, he said. That’s where Amanda lives.” He had heard about her. She was this crazy fucking bitch who worked over at the local coffee shop. She was pretty much the antithesis of all things good; she wrecked the world and blamed you for it. The whole place seemed to exude her energy. It’s no wonder it’s a dump; probably your fault.
out my window
more fragile
than frozen
spider web
a female wren
weightlessly
looking in
my fast-twitching navigator
a tiny miracle
of pencil line legs
perfect brown body
o bench
o table
o window
o sill
hello
hello
hello
goodbye.
there was a little boy who grew up in a trailer park, looking out on a beautiful lake. He hoped that this was all that life would ever have to be, getting up in the morning and looking at the ducks fly away and watching them come back in the evening to sit on the beach.
i was on a trailer heading towards you. ive been trying to reach you, trying to see you, trying to be with you. but this worlds is keeping me here and this trailer is not moving at all. im not anywhere near you.
UGH! thats stupid bum and his house! his trailer. go live in a trailer park not someone’s driveway! would i give anything just to have him gone. some times i think, i should just let bygones be bygones but then he does things like that. and it makes me realize….this is why i hate him.
He lived in that trailer all his life. He didn’t know what it was to live in a home that didn’t have wheels, that wasn’t portable in some way or another. He was constantly moving from place to place, searching for something that could never quite be found. That was him; that was his life.
I miss the days that we would spend camping in our tent-trailer. The days were long. Too hot. Too cold. Too dirty. Too hungry. But always, always filled with so much love.
It was sick the way he was treating her. Locked away in some building, in some trailer, no one to look at her, no one to talk to. What was she to him, some sort of painting? Something with no feelings, no soul?
Mia banged her fist on the door, knowing that Micheal would still be close enough to hear her, he’d only left moments before. She almost laughed at herself–of course she was trying to get out now that he had left. Of course she wouldn’t protest the situation once he was around.
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to live in a trailer home. How long does it take to move one of those things? I would love to just be able to pick my house up and move to someplace totally different from before whenever I wanted. I wonder how big those can get? I’ve never actually been inside a trailer home. I’ve been RVing before, but I don’t think that’s the same thing at all.
He walks up the mountain eating a granny smith apple every time he arrives at the point where he can look over the whole town. He throws the apple down the hill and I think he hopes the deers will eat it. He never notices me because I’m quiet and cautious and need to eat.
Lorren shook his head. The trailer before him was dingy and broken down, eaten through by dust mites in places. He couldn’t believe that Ronan had sent him here. It was ridiculous, what engineer would live here?
He frowned, pushing the door opened, and inside it smelled like alcohol, drugs and seat. Nice.
“Come on, son,” my Dad yelled. We were headed up north for the summer, all jam packed into our trailer. The trailer used to be my grandfathers, which was then handed down to my father, and will someday be mine.
Hopefully I can spruce it up a bit. Lord knows my Dad won’t.
i love trailers for movies. they always give me a gr8 idea as to how shitty the movie is. like, if it has that one guy that announces for Hop and stuff, i know right off the bat to avoid that movie at all costs. i’ve never been in a trailer home but i’ve been RVing before.
She stepped out of the trailer clutching a bruise on her face with a mottled black and purple arm, watching her children play in the dust.
“My children don’t deserve this. They don’t deserve to be poor.They don’t deserve to be treated like this.”
But there was nothing she could do. Turning around, she faced her destiny, and the rest of her life, waiting in the trailer, waiting for his sandwich.
The trailer sat half-cocked on a hill.
Any day we just knew that it was going to fall
completely apart and leave us with nowhere
to find solace at 5 in the morning
after being nowhere we said we would be.
But it never fell. I was always there.
Until the year we ended up committing to something
bigger than just a friday night for once.
hobos with gross hair live in dirty trailers. i think id die if i lived one. they look hot and dirty. i hate animals that seem to be around trailers such as rats and other odd creatures that shouldn’t be on this planet. i actually think mice are cute, but not rats. odd, very odd. i hate gross people.
She stood up, hitting her head again on the low ceiling. She tripped out the door and stood next to her temporary home. This was fun. Living in the woods. No running water. Lots of fun. Right?
its a movie that tells u about it like my dreams sr like trailers ive created on my own so meaningful and mine. trailer where people live and survive. trailer thats all i got.
I watched the trailer for the new movie, video, motion picture. It promised me something great, something beautiful and mind-altering. Something for me to think about as I drift off to sleep…something to love. I can’t say I was disappointed….but it wasn’t what I expected. I didn’t get the feeling, the deep-down in my stomach ache for more. The ache of something amazing….that I experienced something worth remembering.
A movie trailer is desinged to catch the attention of the audience in question. It is often action packed or filled with romance. Recently too much of the plot is given away in movie trailers which ruin the movie for potential viewers. Why they do this, no one knows.
i want to go camping. a lot. in fact, i am! i am going this summer with my best friend. i once went camping with her to Spruce point park where I met her cousin Brendon. I was his first kiss.
I know some people who live in trailers. I used to think that trailers were redneck or ghetto, however once you go through college, a place to live is a place to live. Many of my friends lived in them and now I look at them as okay homes. Though they are a little small and you have to watch out for tornadoes.
Trailer park children come out like farts and smell just as bad. Chris wants to kill them so we call him racist but honestly their coprses cant stink much more than their AIDS. Oh go I’m so awful. But now thats off topic.
t.r.a.i.l.e.r. It drags, the wheels carrying its load. It bounces and mounds, high and low again, creaking occasionally. Do they notice? Do they mind? Who dares mind, anyways. It isn’t theirs to take pride in.
When I think of trailers I think of large, looming vehicles of transportation. They’re often white, with a truck in front and curtains with flower patterns or green.
I often associate trailers with trailer parks, trailer trash, and rednecks.
my friend lives in a trailer park. she does very well for herself. no one helps herpay for aything and she only has a part time job. so im proud of her because she does what she can.
I’m in a trailer. It’s dark. Gloomy. Abandoned. Is anyone ever coning to find me? I have no idea. All I can think about is the cold, empty silence that surrounds me. It surrounds everything. Engulfs me. It’s dark. Still dark. Cold. Silent. Scared.
The trailer looked intriguing, but Matty had been in film school long enough that he was unimpressed by the effects and suspicious of a story being told in 90 seconds that would be good for a full two hours.
Still, he admired the way the light sent shadows dancing across Lily’s face as she sat beside him and gazed at the screen, entranced. And maybe he could put up with plebeian culture for that.
ur so dark and full of so many knick knacks it makes me want to just live there forever beside all of your curious things…
Trailer trash. Well, I’ve never really thought that was a fair statement. People are always categorizing us as things, not as individuals. Trailers always freak me out though .My grandma had a really nice one, almost a house… Others seem to be embedded with superstitions of mass murderers. Yet Maddy lived in one. How can that be? I claim not to be prejudiced by i suppose that happens in growing up.
Ach. I’ve already written about a trailer today. Maybe, however, this is a different type of trailer. It’s one of those pod-things that you’d attach to the back of a ford f150. I think grandma lives in there. I wonder if the driver knows that she’s still in there? Maybe she’s alive. Maybe not. there are too many doilies hanging from the window to be sure.
she compared it to pizza.
“you know, when you’re at a party, and there’s maybe four or five pizzas, so you really go at it, you don’t stop just to be polite, you stop because you’re just so full that you know you can’t have another piece–it will only make you sick?”
she always talked with too much detail.
“i just wish that we could tell the world, i’m done, i’m out, and the world would take care of it. i’d get stricken with cancer the next day, maybe a car would hit me, maybe i’d die in my bed from godknowswhat. but if the world could just listen like that, you know? cause it feels like it’s time, but…”
her words trailed behind me even as i left the room.
The trailer park was dark and dingy. At least, it appeared that way from the entrance. Some old, mistreated trees tried desperately to stay upright above the entryway. The yellow old lights illuminated the winding rows of mobile homes.
right in the valley. The huge colorado mountains rising up on both sides of us. Riding bikes down the street and strealing old ladies flowers. Getting my neighbor to get us cookies…. neighborhood kids and the giant puddle in the middle of the street deep enough for my little self to wade in.
Well, I was only watching to pass the time. Then: flashes, sounds, descriptions. Memories. Why was the timing so? I remembered it all, just as I had forgotten it. All in 30 seconds of picture, and now, forever.
trailer the trailer the trailer shit this is some kind of linguistic experiment on world association. I guess I thought.
There was a trailer park, it was quaint, little, homey. You wouldn’t think it whne you hear the word “trailer park.” But it waas. It was the place I called home and I wouldn’t trade it for anything else. I loved it. Never could strip me of it. But trust me I’m not trailer trash.
I’m not too sure about what i could say about the word “trailer” except that i love them when I get to catch them before a movie. I always make elaborate plans to go see all the cool ones and a very rarely enact any of those plans. I guess that makes me a bad person or something. *shrug*
that trailer park over there sure is a dump, he said. That’s where Amanda lives.” He had heard about her. She was this crazy fucking bitch who worked over at the local coffee shop. She was pretty much the antithesis of all things good; she wrecked the world and blamed you for it. The whole place seemed to exude her energy. It’s no wonder it’s a dump; probably your fault.
out my window
more fragile
than frozen
spider web
a female wren
weightlessly
looking in
my fast-twitching navigator
a tiny miracle
of pencil line legs
perfect brown body
o bench
o table
o window
o sill
hello
hello
hello
goodbye.
there was a little boy who grew up in a trailer park, looking out on a beautiful lake. He hoped that this was all that life would ever have to be, getting up in the morning and looking at the ducks fly away and watching them come back in the evening to sit on the beach.
i was on a trailer heading towards you. ive been trying to reach you, trying to see you, trying to be with you. but this worlds is keeping me here and this trailer is not moving at all. im not anywhere near you.
UGH! thats stupid bum and his house! his trailer. go live in a trailer park not someone’s driveway! would i give anything just to have him gone. some times i think, i should just let bygones be bygones but then he does things like that. and it makes me realize….this is why i hate him.
He lived in that trailer all his life. He didn’t know what it was to live in a home that didn’t have wheels, that wasn’t portable in some way or another. He was constantly moving from place to place, searching for something that could never quite be found. That was him; that was his life.
I miss the days that we would spend camping in our tent-trailer. The days were long. Too hot. Too cold. Too dirty. Too hungry. But always, always filled with so much love.
Trailer = Buzz killer
It was sick the way he was treating her. Locked away in some building, in some trailer, no one to look at her, no one to talk to. What was she to him, some sort of painting? Something with no feelings, no soul?
Mia banged her fist on the door, knowing that Micheal would still be close enough to hear her, he’d only left moments before. She almost laughed at herself–of course she was trying to get out now that he had left. Of course she wouldn’t protest the situation once he was around.
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to live in a trailer home. How long does it take to move one of those things? I would love to just be able to pick my house up and move to someplace totally different from before whenever I wanted. I wonder how big those can get? I’ve never actually been inside a trailer home. I’ve been RVing before, but I don’t think that’s the same thing at all.
He walks up the mountain eating a granny smith apple every time he arrives at the point where he can look over the whole town. He throws the apple down the hill and I think he hopes the deers will eat it. He never notices me because I’m quiet and cautious and need to eat.
Lorren shook his head. The trailer before him was dingy and broken down, eaten through by dust mites in places. He couldn’t believe that Ronan had sent him here. It was ridiculous, what engineer would live here?
He frowned, pushing the door opened, and inside it smelled like alcohol, drugs and seat. Nice.
“Hello?” he called, and there was no answer.
“Come on, son,” my Dad yelled. We were headed up north for the summer, all jam packed into our trailer. The trailer used to be my grandfathers, which was then handed down to my father, and will someday be mine.
Hopefully I can spruce it up a bit. Lord knows my Dad won’t.
i love trailers for movies. they always give me a gr8 idea as to how shitty the movie is. like, if it has that one guy that announces for Hop and stuff, i know right off the bat to avoid that movie at all costs. i’ve never been in a trailer home but i’ve been RVing before.
She stepped out of the trailer clutching a bruise on her face with a mottled black and purple arm, watching her children play in the dust.
“My children don’t deserve this. They don’t deserve to be poor.They don’t deserve to be treated like this.”
But there was nothing she could do. Turning around, she faced her destiny, and the rest of her life, waiting in the trailer, waiting for his sandwich.
The trailer sat half-cocked on a hill.
Any day we just knew that it was going to fall
completely apart and leave us with nowhere
to find solace at 5 in the morning
after being nowhere we said we would be.
But it never fell. I was always there.
Until the year we ended up committing to something
bigger than just a friday night for once.
hobos with gross hair live in dirty trailers. i think id die if i lived one. they look hot and dirty. i hate animals that seem to be around trailers such as rats and other odd creatures that shouldn’t be on this planet. i actually think mice are cute, but not rats. odd, very odd. i hate gross people.
She stood up, hitting her head again on the low ceiling. She tripped out the door and stood next to her temporary home. This was fun. Living in the woods. No running water. Lots of fun. Right?
its a movie that tells u about it like my dreams sr like trailers ive created on my own so meaningful and mine. trailer where people live and survive. trailer thats all i got.
I watched the trailer for the new movie, video, motion picture. It promised me something great, something beautiful and mind-altering. Something for me to think about as I drift off to sleep…something to love. I can’t say I was disappointed….but it wasn’t what I expected. I didn’t get the feeling, the deep-down in my stomach ache for more. The ache of something amazing….that I experienced something worth remembering.
Movies, Horses, Cars, Trucks. HOME, I miss the shows in riding and the piles of hay in the back of my trailer.
A movie trailer is desinged to catch the attention of the audience in question. It is often action packed or filled with romance. Recently too much of the plot is given away in movie trailers which ruin the movie for potential viewers. Why they do this, no one knows.
i want to go camping. a lot. in fact, i am! i am going this summer with my best friend. i once went camping with her to Spruce point park where I met her cousin Brendon. I was his first kiss.
I know some people who live in trailers. I used to think that trailers were redneck or ghetto, however once you go through college, a place to live is a place to live. Many of my friends lived in them and now I look at them as okay homes. Though they are a little small and you have to watch out for tornadoes.