convertible.
her shirt,
her car.
everything could convert to something else…transforming to meet the occasion.
this was just how she functioned.
never did she realize the price of her convertible lifestyle till now..when the one thing she loved proved as convertible as she.
Emily
car wind top goes down waste of money wind gets in your hair; it’s actually more annoying than cool. People think it makes them cool, but it doesn’t. They’re out of style now, for the most part, as far as I can tell. I’m not really into cars in the first place
Adam
There is not a care in the world as i ride my sweet Lexus convertible. it was always been my dream car, which reminds me that that’s all this is a dream. Now I go back to all the worries i have in my world.
Lynn
COnvertible top ragged or hard has to be down either way the wind blows through my hair reminding me that I only get this feel when I’m in this type of car
Jillian
girls in tube tops
vanilla ice and a boom box
80’s socks and aqua-net
pool parties all wet
emma
“It’s a convertible,” Joe said proudly.
Jesse stared at the lumpy sofa-turned-futon and nodded. “Thanks, mate, I really appreciate it.”
Joe peered closer. “Dude, you have a black eye.”
Jesse ducked back out of Joe’s reach. “Mobbed by fans. It’s no big deal.” He dropped his duffel bag on the floor. “Thanks again.”
Joe nodded and headed for the door. “Sleep well. Stop any burglars for me.”
Jesse laughed. “If you think I can.”
Nagi
riding ina convertable is like going on a date with your grade ten boyfriend. You never know where you’ll end up or what you’ll end up doing–you just know you feel excited. The wind is bloowing your hair back to it’s natural colour
shell
The world was once collected around a certain type of car… A convertible, a very confusing car, slightly smaller than your usual thing. Usually run by someone with a god complex who thinks that the world revolves around them.
Of course, if I cared about them, I wouldn’t pay attention… But I do, so I notice such things. Their cars tend to smell awful and make me cry, though the directions usually break because they’re driven by blonds.
tori
convertible is my mind
I suppose
buttons to push
open close open close
seems its always opened
people always trying for it to close
their hair is getting messy.
Sarah Carlsen
Sun in my face and wind blowing my hair all about as I cruise in my new red convertible. Catapulting down the highway I am immune to lifes
Wanda
i think convertibles are easy to drive. i like how they function. i can get anywhere i want driving a convertible. it isn’t that expensive but it isn’t that cheap either. my future girlfriend would want me to drive one because it is pretty efficient. i would blast music while driving my convertible and enjoy the scene as i go.
shin
cheese some times reminds me of convertibles.
a kid
what the heck…I had this yesterday!!
janny
car like a wanker who loves himself and his image too much. shallow. hollow. fake.
lauren
It was a tiny car. Not uncomfortable, but tiny none the less. It was red and blue at the same time. With sticky annoying leather seats I’d come to learn to hate because the California sun was unrelenting and made my thighs stick to the cushions in a way I despised. And despite by best efforts could not convince anyone to buy me new seats covers, they said it ruined the pretty leather.
Xazz
cars that can move their hoods. To convert something. Cars that make people look cool. Cars that can or can not have a top.
Jue
It was a shiny red convertible, the driver looking smug as she stepped out dropping her keys into the valets hand.
She wore those awful sunglasses that she never took off, they made her powerful, when no one could see her eyes.
Kate
My Aunt Monica had a red convertible when I was six years old. It was the summer of the red convertible for me. I had amazingly curly hair that would wrap around my face when the top was down, but aunt monica always had a scrunchy that i never wanted to use because i secretly liked the way the world looked behind tendrils of hair that in all other forms of my life only got in the way.
Kayla Thomas
I wish I had a convertible. I remember when I was young i loved driving in my friends convertible..we would cruise around checkin=g out the girls…screaming and hollerin..it was great…especially at the beach..I wish I had one know.
Patrick Cox
I like cars. Cars are a lot of fun though I’m scared to drive one. My friend Milana just got her N. Amazing. So much control one must have over themselves with a whole machine at their finger tips. Or maybe it’s the control they don’t have.
A power to kill .
mellie
a red convertible driving down the slate black road pierced with yellow dashes flying by the sky above is cloudless and free and can’t change all that can change is everything inside of me
laura
driving on top of the mountains music blaring sunny day warm winds breeze flying through your hair losing my religion cherry red on top of the world freedom way too fast but too slow
elli
Freedom. the feel of the wind whipping through your hair as you drive down the long windy road. It’s exhilarating. The sun dances off the bright blue hood, and your child hood dreams spring back in that quick instance.
andrea
a red car speeding quickly down the highway. The police get it. The man get’s a ticket. He gets mad at the car because it told him to speed. He kicks the car. The convertible kicks back. Dumb car. Dumb human. I’m never buying a red convertible again.
Judy Hawk
I stepped onto the leather interior of the car. It was black and sleek. Perfect for a road trip. My luggage was in the back seat and my purse in the passenger seat. I was ready to go on the trip of a lifetime.
laura
I drove in a convertible when I was 10 with my dad he took us down a dirt road and went like 100mph, with the wind blowing in my hair it was something I would never forget
g
It was red. She let her hair loose. Let it blow in the wind. She didn’t own the car, but that didn’t matter to her. She drove it like it was hers. Upwards of one twenty she passed a cop.
OG Leg
Gaudy impractical. Very American way to get around. Kind of a mobile display case, more stylish than a Pope Mobile. Don’t forget to have some chicks hanging out the back seat.
Panch
Blowing my hair like I was at sea. I love the heat onmy skin from the sun beaming down on me. I hate rainy days when I have to put the top up, Then again I get excited when I get to put it down again. I will always love to ride in my convertable feeling free and unihabted
Connie
car. going fast. red. hair in the wind. blond. rich man, laughing, with his hands in the car. care free. off to california for the weekend. belevery hills. fast. driving even faster. winding hills. smiling faces. just two people in the car.
Jess
When I was a child my great-aunt had a bright, cherry red convertible, only ever used for the sunday drive to church along the old dirt road. Why she only ever took this beautiful classic out on that road is a mystery; it always came home dirty and she always came home complaining that despite all the modern advances, no one seemed to be able to conjure the time to properly pave the road.
k
A word that could be used to describe a type of car that allows the top to be taken down or replaced as needed. It also refers to any item that can be changed for a comparable item of a different type.
Tommy Howell
“No Fucking Way.”
James stood in front of his house, jaw all agape, staring at the accident scene in front of him.
His juice dropped out of his hands as he ran towards the car, wrapped around a light post.
“Jimmy Fang! Oh fuck me, fuck me…”
He was distraught at seeing his action hero, the one and only Jimmy Fang, thrown through the window of a 2008 Shelby Convertible.
paisley
changeable, an expensive car, mutable, able to be converted, as in money or chemistry.
Jess
the wind blowing through my hair on that warm summer day, oh how i remember it just as if it were yesterday. let me reminisce on the past days of my teenage years.
...
driving in the wind
hair blown way out
out of proportion just like us
sun in our eyes
just go
sometimes you just need to get a way.
together
find freedom in small spaces and be alive
esk
I would want a convertible, except that it would probably rain more if I had one.
That’s just my luck.
It would have to be black.
Sam
She came in her red convertible with her matching red outfit and that bright red lipstick we all despised. As she walked out of the car we shouted out an embarresing “Gramma’s here!”
kelsey
when i was 16 i got my first car: a 1987 shitbeater cabriolet convertible. i don’t think i’ve ever loved a car so much. it had character and always wrecked in the worst situations. dire accidents make for close friendships.
christy
Sometimes people are convertible. Sometimes they can change. I’ve converted from an introverted, heavily depressed scared little girl to a somewhat outgoing young woman who is usually positive about the things in her life. Some people are not
convertible.
her shirt,
her car.
everything could convert to something else…transforming to meet the occasion.
this was just how she functioned.
never did she realize the price of her convertible lifestyle till now..when the one thing she loved proved as convertible as she.
car wind top goes down waste of money wind gets in your hair; it’s actually more annoying than cool. People think it makes them cool, but it doesn’t. They’re out of style now, for the most part, as far as I can tell. I’m not really into cars in the first place
There is not a care in the world as i ride my sweet Lexus convertible. it was always been my dream car, which reminds me that that’s all this is a dream. Now I go back to all the worries i have in my world.
COnvertible top ragged or hard has to be down either way the wind blows through my hair reminding me that I only get this feel when I’m in this type of car
girls in tube tops
vanilla ice and a boom box
80’s socks and aqua-net
pool parties all wet
“It’s a convertible,” Joe said proudly.
Jesse stared at the lumpy sofa-turned-futon and nodded. “Thanks, mate, I really appreciate it.”
Joe peered closer. “Dude, you have a black eye.”
Jesse ducked back out of Joe’s reach. “Mobbed by fans. It’s no big deal.” He dropped his duffel bag on the floor. “Thanks again.”
Joe nodded and headed for the door. “Sleep well. Stop any burglars for me.”
Jesse laughed. “If you think I can.”
riding ina convertable is like going on a date with your grade ten boyfriend. You never know where you’ll end up or what you’ll end up doing–you just know you feel excited. The wind is bloowing your hair back to it’s natural colour
The world was once collected around a certain type of car… A convertible, a very confusing car, slightly smaller than your usual thing. Usually run by someone with a god complex who thinks that the world revolves around them.
Of course, if I cared about them, I wouldn’t pay attention… But I do, so I notice such things. Their cars tend to smell awful and make me cry, though the directions usually break because they’re driven by blonds.
convertible is my mind
I suppose
buttons to push
open close open close
seems its always opened
people always trying for it to close
their hair is getting messy.
Sun in my face and wind blowing my hair all about as I cruise in my new red convertible. Catapulting down the highway I am immune to lifes
i think convertibles are easy to drive. i like how they function. i can get anywhere i want driving a convertible. it isn’t that expensive but it isn’t that cheap either. my future girlfriend would want me to drive one because it is pretty efficient. i would blast music while driving my convertible and enjoy the scene as i go.
cheese some times reminds me of convertibles.
what the heck…I had this yesterday!!
car like a wanker who loves himself and his image too much. shallow. hollow. fake.
It was a tiny car. Not uncomfortable, but tiny none the less. It was red and blue at the same time. With sticky annoying leather seats I’d come to learn to hate because the California sun was unrelenting and made my thighs stick to the cushions in a way I despised. And despite by best efforts could not convince anyone to buy me new seats covers, they said it ruined the pretty leather.
cars that can move their hoods. To convert something. Cars that make people look cool. Cars that can or can not have a top.
It was a shiny red convertible, the driver looking smug as she stepped out dropping her keys into the valets hand.
She wore those awful sunglasses that she never took off, they made her powerful, when no one could see her eyes.
My Aunt Monica had a red convertible when I was six years old. It was the summer of the red convertible for me. I had amazingly curly hair that would wrap around my face when the top was down, but aunt monica always had a scrunchy that i never wanted to use because i secretly liked the way the world looked behind tendrils of hair that in all other forms of my life only got in the way.
I wish I had a convertible. I remember when I was young i loved driving in my friends convertible..we would cruise around checkin=g out the girls…screaming and hollerin..it was great…especially at the beach..I wish I had one know.
I like cars. Cars are a lot of fun though I’m scared to drive one. My friend Milana just got her N. Amazing. So much control one must have over themselves with a whole machine at their finger tips. Or maybe it’s the control they don’t have.
A power to kill .
a red convertible driving down the slate black road pierced with yellow dashes flying by the sky above is cloudless and free and can’t change all that can change is everything inside of me
driving on top of the mountains music blaring sunny day warm winds breeze flying through your hair losing my religion cherry red on top of the world freedom way too fast but too slow
Freedom. the feel of the wind whipping through your hair as you drive down the long windy road. It’s exhilarating. The sun dances off the bright blue hood, and your child hood dreams spring back in that quick instance.
a red car speeding quickly down the highway. The police get it. The man get’s a ticket. He gets mad at the car because it told him to speed. He kicks the car. The convertible kicks back. Dumb car. Dumb human. I’m never buying a red convertible again.
I stepped onto the leather interior of the car. It was black and sleek. Perfect for a road trip. My luggage was in the back seat and my purse in the passenger seat. I was ready to go on the trip of a lifetime.
I drove in a convertible when I was 10 with my dad he took us down a dirt road and went like 100mph, with the wind blowing in my hair it was something I would never forget
It was red. She let her hair loose. Let it blow in the wind. She didn’t own the car, but that didn’t matter to her. She drove it like it was hers. Upwards of one twenty she passed a cop.
Gaudy impractical. Very American way to get around. Kind of a mobile display case, more stylish than a Pope Mobile. Don’t forget to have some chicks hanging out the back seat.
Blowing my hair like I was at sea. I love the heat onmy skin from the sun beaming down on me. I hate rainy days when I have to put the top up, Then again I get excited when I get to put it down again. I will always love to ride in my convertable feeling free and unihabted
car. going fast. red. hair in the wind. blond. rich man, laughing, with his hands in the car. care free. off to california for the weekend. belevery hills. fast. driving even faster. winding hills. smiling faces. just two people in the car.
When I was a child my great-aunt had a bright, cherry red convertible, only ever used for the sunday drive to church along the old dirt road. Why she only ever took this beautiful classic out on that road is a mystery; it always came home dirty and she always came home complaining that despite all the modern advances, no one seemed to be able to conjure the time to properly pave the road.
A word that could be used to describe a type of car that allows the top to be taken down or replaced as needed. It also refers to any item that can be changed for a comparable item of a different type.
“No Fucking Way.”
James stood in front of his house, jaw all agape, staring at the accident scene in front of him.
His juice dropped out of his hands as he ran towards the car, wrapped around a light post.
“Jimmy Fang! Oh fuck me, fuck me…”
He was distraught at seeing his action hero, the one and only Jimmy Fang, thrown through the window of a 2008 Shelby Convertible.
changeable, an expensive car, mutable, able to be converted, as in money or chemistry.
the wind blowing through my hair on that warm summer day, oh how i remember it just as if it were yesterday. let me reminisce on the past days of my teenage years.
driving in the wind
hair blown way out
out of proportion just like us
sun in our eyes
just go
sometimes you just need to get a way.
together
find freedom in small spaces and be alive
I would want a convertible, except that it would probably rain more if I had one.
That’s just my luck.
It would have to be black.
She came in her red convertible with her matching red outfit and that bright red lipstick we all despised. As she walked out of the car we shouted out an embarresing “Gramma’s here!”
when i was 16 i got my first car: a 1987 shitbeater cabriolet convertible. i don’t think i’ve ever loved a car so much. it had character and always wrecked in the worst situations. dire accidents make for close friendships.
Sometimes people are convertible. Sometimes they can change. I’ve converted from an introverted, heavily depressed scared little girl to a somewhat outgoing young woman who is usually positive about the things in her life. Some people are not