I honestly don’t know what to write about barrels. I haven’t seen a barrel in my life. There’s something funny in continuing my rant from here, but I really don’t know what to write. Enjoy your barrels, I guess. Tee-hee.
Life has barrel but we have to learn how to get past it & grow!
M.
No sé qué es un barrel. Me imagino que debe ser un barril. No lo sé. Sesenta segundos para escribir sobre una palabra que desconozco, vaya. No se acaban…
Y yo sigo escribiendo.
Sopadecaracol9
barrels are brown things that hold things. They used them on pirate ships i think for um beer or something i don’t remember. Then they’re filled with monkeys, but the barrels are plastic then, not wood like usual. Barrels are weird items.
How can you tell? I mean is it obvious when they have you over a barrel, or is it much more subtle, cowering under the bureaucracy or something. Y’ know, the forms they make you fill out asking that ask everything about you. So you fill them out. You tell them all about your house, who lives in it, the shape of your windows, how many taps there are, why you bought a new telly and how long you intend to leave the spare bedroom like that. You’ve measured every-bloody-room with a 30cm ruler because you couldn’t find the tape measure and filled in all the little boxes, you’ve even measured the depth of the shag pile, they didn’t ask but you had gotten into a measuring mood. And after all that, all of it, what happens?
that brown thing that holds monkeys but sometimes its red and plastic barrels are those little bucket type things that may hold alcohol barrels are used in pirate ships too arg.
Aubrey
When I was in Niagara Falls, I read about people going over the falls in barrels. How do people get to a point where they are willing to go over like that? I was surprised there were survivors. What stories would you have to tell about that experience when you come out the other side? Amazing. I want to hear all about it.
Brooke
barrel of laughs in a field next to a barrel of beer that went off years ago, we drinik the barrel of bear and then get in it and roll down the hill its a nice day, sun is shining, nice grassy hill and the barrel is big enough to fit two people inside. it smells of a brewery
lsinc
The barrel-chested writer wrote short sentences, lived in Paris, wrote in cafes, lived in Key West, loved cats, hated himself and ended up blowing his brains out.
When you are over a barrel that means you are confused, but what if you were under a barrel? Wouldn’t that be worse? It would be fun to jump on top of a barrel turned on its side and balance yourself, rolling down a hill!
He clung to the floating mass, travelling down the river at a slow, arduous pace. He grimaced against the cold that seeped out of his invisible body. He couldn’t hold on much longer, that much was absolutely certain. He almost thought he would arrest himself to the icy depths beneath, he almost thought of letting go of the dream he spent so long cultivating, to abandon his group right towards the end of his adventure. However, when he saw the glistening lights of a river town up ahead, he wouldn’t know his adventure had just begun.
Julie
A faceless man emerged from the shadows of the alley. It had been too easy. Smooth as a snake in a barrel of butter. A mass of flesh steamed in the corner of the alley, never to rise again.
The barrel chested youth sat on a park bench, quietly observing the world around him. He had no way of knowing what exactly was going on with the woman across from him, but it appeared that she was trying to unhindge her left arm and wrap it around the underside of her torso. It was fine. This was central park after all. The great unknown park in the center of the universe.
Anthony
The barrels were stacked up high, a crude barrier from the army approaching. I shouted to my companion, we were short on ammunition. There was no chance we would walk away from this unscathed, and we might possibly lose our lives. Was it worth it?
He looked around for anywhere that could hide him, anywhere that could get him out of the line of sight of her vengeful glare. He ran to the barrels stacked beside the staircase and threw himself behind them, just as he heard the slow creak of the door opening.
…………………………………………….Why a barrel?? What makes barrels so special that they deserve to be my first word? Hmm, I hate it when I have question but no answers..
It’s like shooting a fish in a barrel, Aryen had said. Really? A mission like this? Derek thought of the security cameras and the guards. He thought of his infant son, who would have to grow up without a father if this mission would fail. Derek thought of his beautiful wife, maybe for the last time.
the barrel held all of the whiskey he had spent that week making with his father. The last week his father was alive. It seemed like just yesterday, yet the six years had already passed by. “Six years is all it takes for the perfect must to enter the whiskey,” his father had told him. He smiled at his paitence and grabbed a glass, ready to try the first sample. “To you, Dad!”
Ummm, I have no idea what a barrel is, so now I am pretty angry ’cause I can’t write anything smart…and I like writing smart things ’cause they make me feel smart :DD…asdfghjikol;kjhgfds…in my defense they said don’t think!!!
Maryryry
what is inside this barrel? that i have found in the middle of no where. i was walking through the forest in mid afternoon and a barrel rolled down a hill over to my left. as it rolled past me to my right i began to think.why would this barrel come to me? who pushed it down this hill? and what is inside the barrel.
Jordon
i was looking down the barrel, this barrel could change my life. One barrel, one gun, one bullet.Boom my life could be gone in an instant.I could loose it all, my life my friends my family all gone because of the barrel of this gun. This barrel could change everything.
Emily
Barrels.. buckets.. blood everywhere. emotions flying. people screaming. sleeping. silence is so loud. so strong.
things i knew before you:
what coming home late means, what leaving early means, what will become of us, three years into the future, and just beginning to meet for the first time —
finally, the patience to say i love you
Do you remember when we were little kids? How you would push me into the barrel by the side of my house and jump in after me? And together, we’d roll down the hill, past the neighbor’s houses, with not a care in the world. Just the two of us, spinning round and round and braving the world ahead of us together.
a barrel of wine, that is really what comes to mind. a barrel im assuming was at one point a way of measuring things or maybe its always been just a wooden cylinder for wine and other alcoholic beverages. that is an interesting thing to be associated with at the very least, it keeps things interesting.
She barrel rolled down the hill with the free abandon she remembered as a child…this time though she didn’t get up quite so quickly and run to the top to do it again…this time she savoured it.
She barrel rolled down the hill with the free abandon she remembered as a kid…this time though she didn’t get up quite so fast and run to the top to do it again…this time round she savoured it.
Sue
Theyre round and empty unless filled with wine. wine is my favorite, i like white wine the most. I wonder what i’ts like to stomp on grapes to make wine, do your feet get all sticky and gross? Or would you like to lick the bottoms of your toes?
Bria
It was bobbing up and down as the sea got rougher and rougher. A barrel bobbing up and down with the waves as it waited for the day it would reach the shore, or get smashed to pieces.
The man look down the barrel of the rifle and into the murky light of the forest. A bear ambled across the clearing. Blocking the hunter’s real target.
I was looking for my brother in the bottom of the ship , as i came across a peculiar barrel of wine . I noticed that the wine indeed came from the British and indeed not the colonist . Hate filled me until i could not stand . But why ?
Alora
The barrel sat in the corner, filled with the dregs from the night before. All the people had left and they left with haste as the sun came up. Not one of them wanted to be found there in the morning. When the men came to pick up the barrel and take it away not one soul remained in the building.
Kathryn
The barrel was full of frogs. Agent Quincy couldn’t fathom why someone would keep frogs in a barrel. Then his conversation with Samuel came back to him: “The virus needs an amphibious host”. As he called in the incident, he kicked himself for being so naive and trusting a man as vile as Samuel Carson.
Luke Moore
I was on my way to the grocery store on a misty evening. A woman approached me on the sidewalk, and asked, “Have you seen the barrels at McGinnigan’s store lately?”
“No,” I replied, “I haven’t.”
“They are most unusual… I’d suggest you take a look at them.”
She walked away.
How peculiar.
Ash
All to do with monkeys this one. Or fish.Can also be used for beer and rolling out the barrel is a pretty good term in my opinion. Made out of wood, at least the best ones are. The metal ones aren’t quite as romantic,,,,,,,
Melissa Williams
There was a barrel full of very dark, very rich wine in the cellar. The smell was pretty damn palpable. I couldn’t walk by without getting a whiff of what seemed like a mix of elderberries and orange pulp. Very fruity and very tangy. I could almost taste it on my tongue just by inhaling.
My oldest cousin, who owned the vineyard, told me that it was a very special wine. His grandfather had made it for years, but he never bothered to sell it. It just sat there. Bewitching those who caught the odor.
Belinda Roddie
A barrel of laughs was never prescribed
Though they fooled the prospectives with
The promise of wives and described the good time that would one day come
Fools
Fools
An idiot son
I honestly don’t know what to write about barrels. I haven’t seen a barrel in my life. There’s something funny in continuing my rant from here, but I really don’t know what to write. Enjoy your barrels, I guess. Tee-hee.
Life has barrel but we have to learn how to get past it & grow!
No sé qué es un barrel. Me imagino que debe ser un barril. No lo sé. Sesenta segundos para escribir sobre una palabra que desconozco, vaya. No se acaban…
Y yo sigo escribiendo.
barrels are brown things that hold things. They used them on pirate ships i think for um beer or something i don’t remember. Then they’re filled with monkeys, but the barrels are plastic then, not wood like usual. Barrels are weird items.
How can you tell? I mean is it obvious when they have you over a barrel, or is it much more subtle, cowering under the bureaucracy or something. Y’ know, the forms they make you fill out asking that ask everything about you. So you fill them out. You tell them all about your house, who lives in it, the shape of your windows, how many taps there are, why you bought a new telly and how long you intend to leave the spare bedroom like that. You’ve measured every-bloody-room with a 30cm ruler because you couldn’t find the tape measure and filled in all the little boxes, you’ve even measured the depth of the shag pile, they didn’t ask but you had gotten into a measuring mood. And after all that, all of it, what happens?
that brown thing that holds monkeys but sometimes its red and plastic barrels are those little bucket type things that may hold alcohol barrels are used in pirate ships too arg.
When I was in Niagara Falls, I read about people going over the falls in barrels. How do people get to a point where they are willing to go over like that? I was surprised there were survivors. What stories would you have to tell about that experience when you come out the other side? Amazing. I want to hear all about it.
barrel of laughs in a field next to a barrel of beer that went off years ago, we drinik the barrel of bear and then get in it and roll down the hill its a nice day, sun is shining, nice grassy hill and the barrel is big enough to fit two people inside. it smells of a brewery
The barrel-chested writer wrote short sentences, lived in Paris, wrote in cafes, lived in Key West, loved cats, hated himself and ended up blowing his brains out.
When you are over a barrel that means you are confused, but what if you were under a barrel? Wouldn’t that be worse? It would be fun to jump on top of a barrel turned on its side and balance yourself, rolling down a hill!
He clung to the floating mass, travelling down the river at a slow, arduous pace. He grimaced against the cold that seeped out of his invisible body. He couldn’t hold on much longer, that much was absolutely certain. He almost thought he would arrest himself to the icy depths beneath, he almost thought of letting go of the dream he spent so long cultivating, to abandon his group right towards the end of his adventure. However, when he saw the glistening lights of a river town up ahead, he wouldn’t know his adventure had just begun.
A faceless man emerged from the shadows of the alley. It had been too easy. Smooth as a snake in a barrel of butter. A mass of flesh steamed in the corner of the alley, never to rise again.
The barrel chested youth sat on a park bench, quietly observing the world around him. He had no way of knowing what exactly was going on with the woman across from him, but it appeared that she was trying to unhindge her left arm and wrap it around the underside of her torso. It was fine. This was central park after all. The great unknown park in the center of the universe.
The barrels were stacked up high, a crude barrier from the army approaching. I shouted to my companion, we were short on ammunition. There was no chance we would walk away from this unscathed, and we might possibly lose our lives. Was it worth it?
He looked around for anywhere that could hide him, anywhere that could get him out of the line of sight of her vengeful glare. He ran to the barrels stacked beside the staircase and threw himself behind them, just as he heard the slow creak of the door opening.
…………………………………………….Why a barrel?? What makes barrels so special that they deserve to be my first word? Hmm, I hate it when I have question but no answers..
It’s like shooting a fish in a barrel, Aryen had said. Really? A mission like this? Derek thought of the security cameras and the guards. He thought of his infant son, who would have to grow up without a father if this mission would fail. Derek thought of his beautiful wife, maybe for the last time.
the barrel held all of the whiskey he had spent that week making with his father. The last week his father was alive. It seemed like just yesterday, yet the six years had already passed by. “Six years is all it takes for the perfect must to enter the whiskey,” his father had told him. He smiled at his paitence and grabbed a glass, ready to try the first sample. “To you, Dad!”
Ummm, I have no idea what a barrel is, so now I am pretty angry ’cause I can’t write anything smart…and I like writing smart things ’cause they make me feel smart :DD…asdfghjikol;kjhgfds…in my defense they said don’t think!!!
what is inside this barrel? that i have found in the middle of no where. i was walking through the forest in mid afternoon and a barrel rolled down a hill over to my left. as it rolled past me to my right i began to think.why would this barrel come to me? who pushed it down this hill? and what is inside the barrel.
i was looking down the barrel, this barrel could change my life. One barrel, one gun, one bullet.Boom my life could be gone in an instant.I could loose it all, my life my friends my family all gone because of the barrel of this gun. This barrel could change everything.
Barrels.. buckets.. blood everywhere. emotions flying. people screaming. sleeping. silence is so loud. so strong.
rolling down the road.
thunk.
thunk.
thunk.
the mystery of what’s inside.
why don’t you look?
fear.
anxious.
nothing.
things i knew before you:
what coming home late means, what leaving early means, what will become of us, three years into the future, and just beginning to meet for the first time —
finally, the patience to say i love you
Do you remember when we were little kids? How you would push me into the barrel by the side of my house and jump in after me? And together, we’d roll down the hill, past the neighbor’s houses, with not a care in the world. Just the two of us, spinning round and round and braving the world ahead of us together.
You can throw barrels in New Super Mario Bros. Wii! It’s actually a really hard game, but really fun too! I just have the last level left.
a barrel of wine, that is really what comes to mind. a barrel im assuming was at one point a way of measuring things or maybe its always been just a wooden cylinder for wine and other alcoholic beverages. that is an interesting thing to be associated with at the very least, it keeps things interesting.
She barrel rolled down the hill with the free abandon she remembered as a child…this time though she didn’t get up quite so quickly and run to the top to do it again…this time she savoured it.
She barrel rolled down the hill with the free abandon she remembered as a kid…this time though she didn’t get up quite so fast and run to the top to do it again…this time round she savoured it.
Theyre round and empty unless filled with wine. wine is my favorite, i like white wine the most. I wonder what i’ts like to stomp on grapes to make wine, do your feet get all sticky and gross? Or would you like to lick the bottoms of your toes?
It was bobbing up and down as the sea got rougher and rougher. A barrel bobbing up and down with the waves as it waited for the day it would reach the shore, or get smashed to pieces.
Increasingly I find myself looking up, and what I see is not you, but blue skye. I love blue sky.
The man look down the barrel of the rifle and into the murky light of the forest. A bear ambled across the clearing. Blocking the hunter’s real target.
I was looking for my brother in the bottom of the ship , as i came across a peculiar barrel of wine . I noticed that the wine indeed came from the British and indeed not the colonist . Hate filled me until i could not stand . But why ?
The barrel sat in the corner, filled with the dregs from the night before. All the people had left and they left with haste as the sun came up. Not one of them wanted to be found there in the morning. When the men came to pick up the barrel and take it away not one soul remained in the building.
The barrel was full of frogs. Agent Quincy couldn’t fathom why someone would keep frogs in a barrel. Then his conversation with Samuel came back to him: “The virus needs an amphibious host”. As he called in the incident, he kicked himself for being so naive and trusting a man as vile as Samuel Carson.
I was on my way to the grocery store on a misty evening. A woman approached me on the sidewalk, and asked, “Have you seen the barrels at McGinnigan’s store lately?”
“No,” I replied, “I haven’t.”
“They are most unusual… I’d suggest you take a look at them.”
She walked away.
How peculiar.
All to do with monkeys this one. Or fish.Can also be used for beer and rolling out the barrel is a pretty good term in my opinion. Made out of wood, at least the best ones are. The metal ones aren’t quite as romantic,,,,,,,
There was a barrel full of very dark, very rich wine in the cellar. The smell was pretty damn palpable. I couldn’t walk by without getting a whiff of what seemed like a mix of elderberries and orange pulp. Very fruity and very tangy. I could almost taste it on my tongue just by inhaling.
My oldest cousin, who owned the vineyard, told me that it was a very special wine. His grandfather had made it for years, but he never bothered to sell it. It just sat there. Bewitching those who caught the odor.
A barrel of laughs was never prescribed
Though they fooled the prospectives with
The promise of wives and described the good time that would one day come
Fools
Fools
An idiot son