You cook up evil schemes
That make my mind shudder
Are you really so mean
Mentally dragged through the gutter
Your laugh is like a chalkboard
Being scraped with a hatchet
One day you’ll be stopped
You’ll go to hell in a basket
In the kitchen, the old woman trembles over the boiling pot. Her husband sits in the next room over, shouting obsenities at the screen. The cut is still fresh from cutting ingredients earlier that evening, and a trace of steam escapes the pot, rushing into the wound and causing her to wince. She should be used to this sort of pain by now. Sixty years of cooking and cutting, and cleaning have made her callus to these types of minute pains. But the sting of being hurt still currupts her callus thoughts.
Danielle
This is a four letter word that has a double letter. this is a person that makes edible food for a person to pay for and then soon after eat it. this is a highly revered profession and it is als a show.
jessie
I love cooking. It makes me feel so appreciated, like look, I made this just for you. I kneaded this dough, cracked eggs into this bowl, just for you and a little for me because you loving me is truly a gift.
Lucy Gibson
i once cooked, but I couldn’t eat. It was difficult, hard, heart wrenching even, but in the end, worth it. The food I cooked was not for me, because it was me. I cooked myself. Little by little i’d slice and slit pieces of me into the stove top bubbling full of flesh. Until it was gone, all gone, or at least gone in the sense that it once was there, because, it was there, but it wasn’t what it once was. There, cooked.
kyle suess
Cada tarde cocinaba cristales para sus ahijados, unos búhos pequeños que no podían metabolizar proteínas naturales.
mutto with fresh china sauce and spianach n serve it with pint beer and red wine.
Imran Ahmed
The smell of something cooking came from the other room. But it had been cooking too long. I glance up to realize that a pot on the stove had been left unattended. I watched in awe as i notice flames errupting from underneath the pot. I do a double take and realize it was all in my head.
I hate cooking. Its very boring and I don’t like to clean up after myself. I do like to eat though! My favorite food is pizza and hamburgers. I like to make desserts ad other goodies. I made my boyfriend flavored pecans for his birthday!
Alexi
“I can do it!” Her thin hands fly through the dough, pressing it into awkward shapes as her hair flies wildly around her, soon flinging off and into the bread bowl sitting patiently at the table. “Lilli, you can’t just get angry like that. Now look what you did.”
“I said I can cook, mother!” And with a final sweep of her hand into the bread bowl to retrieve her wig, Lilli stalked off to her bedroom.
The tangerines in the slowly rised bins while the Crosby, Stills and Nash album fills your ears, the fact that it isn’t over yet still amazes me as I’m kept off my feet from the floor which is now on fire. I hide under my sheets and sleep. Night.
Kurt
i hate cooking. my uncle cooks dinner every night but complains that its unappreciated. when he cooks, he licks his hands and touches the food. if i have to eat his cooking, i cant watch while he makes is because ill loose my appetite.
fran
It was a miracle she hadn’t starved to death by now. I mean, she had only gotten one meal that day. But that’s how it was in her African village. Two meals a day basically was wealth. But I was just an ordinary one.
Lauren
my first though was the kitchen. i personally prefer baking, because I’m not a very good cook. i wish i could cook though.
Karen
I am cooking lots of food. I wish I was a cook then I could cook everything on the planet in terms of food. I also wish I was a cook so I could see the inside of kitchens and all the ingredients aND WORK that goes into our food. I would also be very proud of all the food I cook.
Lauren
to cook would be great.unfortunately i am handicapped in this department. it has been a recent dream of mine ever since i started watching those tv cook shows. somehow those fat cooks started looking like charming artists
BD
she was gold on gold on gold
(laid langorously like a banquet
on the hot sand at noon)
apollo nicknamed himself midas
(he isn’t the sun god for nothing)
i know you’d always do this task for me and honey, i’d lie about the food just to make u smile even if the foul smell i cannot take, challenges me to hurl, i’ll love you still
Inah
I love to cook. When I was younger my grandma used to bring me into the big black and white kitchen. It smelled like sweet roasted peppers and meatballs. Ever since I was little the smell of those two things have made me sick. It reminds me of burning skin and screams.
“What do you mean? I’m telling you it can’t be done!” They both stood in the kitchen, it was far too late for this. The order was ridiculous and he was clocking out in an hour, “Look get Jerry to do this one I got a class tonight.”
lucas101
She is cheerful in a miserable place
her cheeks are round in a friendly face and
she is warm and kind like ovens standing on iron legs
she holds you with her hands that have kneaded bread
needed you to tell her that you loved her
like the mother that you’ve never had
The humanoid was making something. It stirred randomly in a large container. it sniffed and said “Mmmmmm”. I sneaked up behind it, and when I smelled the fumes coming from the container, I said “Mmmmmm” too.
Adrian
Cooking food is not my thing. I can cook, but I definitely choose not to. But we have to cook for food. We need food to survive. What I can cook is pasta, chicken, you know? The little things. I don’t complain about not being the best cook. I can bake. To me. that’s the best thing in the world
Khadijah Donaldson
I pulled on the apron slowly, the agony of the chore was staggering. Yet everyday I do the same ritual, the same chore over and over again. I hate it, they call it my burden, my job. But what job? I’m not paid for it, I receive nothing for it. Nevertheless everyday I drag myself through the chore, like forcing a hot iron brand around my wrists. Everyday they eat, they eat a not a word falls from their gluttony thick lips.
Narelle
cook.. cook some stories to kill your time… cook some food to win someone’s heart…. cook something to fill your stomach…. why is this word always associated with femininity?
Hmmm…. cooking is good when you are in a good mood… otherwise …. its damn boring..
Cook your life.. add different spices… try new recipes…….add flavor to your dishes……
Let others feel happy and you also in their compliments………
chaacha
Cooking is actually kind of hard in a way. The last time I cooked was for my mom because needed a quick fix to get her a present for Mother’s Day. Today, my sister is cooking pancakes because she really likes them. But I make cereal instead because I like that more than pancakes. Though I have to admit original house of pancakes has the best pancakes that I have ever eaten. I actually finished the whole plate of chocolate chip pancakes and it was heavenly. I wonder how they cook it. Chefs have putty awesome hats too. They are so tall and puffy. I remember when I was younger I always wanted to squish it because it was so big though I don’t know the point of them.
You cook up evil schemes
That make my mind shudder
Are you really so mean
Mentally dragged through the gutter
Your laugh is like a chalkboard
Being scraped with a hatchet
One day you’ll be stopped
You’ll go to hell in a basket
In the kitchen, the old woman trembles over the boiling pot. Her husband sits in the next room over, shouting obsenities at the screen. The cut is still fresh from cutting ingredients earlier that evening, and a trace of steam escapes the pot, rushing into the wound and causing her to wince. She should be used to this sort of pain by now. Sixty years of cooking and cutting, and cleaning have made her callus to these types of minute pains. But the sting of being hurt still currupts her callus thoughts.
This is a four letter word that has a double letter. this is a person that makes edible food for a person to pay for and then soon after eat it. this is a highly revered profession and it is als a show.
I love cooking. It makes me feel so appreciated, like look, I made this just for you. I kneaded this dough, cracked eggs into this bowl, just for you and a little for me because you loving me is truly a gift.
i once cooked, but I couldn’t eat. It was difficult, hard, heart wrenching even, but in the end, worth it. The food I cooked was not for me, because it was me. I cooked myself. Little by little i’d slice and slit pieces of me into the stove top bubbling full of flesh. Until it was gone, all gone, or at least gone in the sense that it once was there, because, it was there, but it wasn’t what it once was. There, cooked.
Cada tarde cocinaba cristales para sus ahijados, unos búhos pequeños que no podían metabolizar proteínas naturales.
mutto with fresh china sauce and spianach n serve it with pint beer and red wine.
The smell of something cooking came from the other room. But it had been cooking too long. I glance up to realize that a pot on the stove had been left unattended. I watched in awe as i notice flames errupting from underneath the pot. I do a double take and realize it was all in my head.
I hate cooking. Its very boring and I don’t like to clean up after myself. I do like to eat though! My favorite food is pizza and hamburgers. I like to make desserts ad other goodies. I made my boyfriend flavored pecans for his birthday!
“I can do it!” Her thin hands fly through the dough, pressing it into awkward shapes as her hair flies wildly around her, soon flinging off and into the bread bowl sitting patiently at the table. “Lilli, you can’t just get angry like that. Now look what you did.”
“I said I can cook, mother!” And with a final sweep of her hand into the bread bowl to retrieve her wig, Lilli stalked off to her bedroom.
The tangerines in the slowly rised bins while the Crosby, Stills and Nash album fills your ears, the fact that it isn’t over yet still amazes me as I’m kept off my feet from the floor which is now on fire. I hide under my sheets and sleep. Night.
i hate cooking. my uncle cooks dinner every night but complains that its unappreciated. when he cooks, he licks his hands and touches the food. if i have to eat his cooking, i cant watch while he makes is because ill loose my appetite.
It was a miracle she hadn’t starved to death by now. I mean, she had only gotten one meal that day. But that’s how it was in her African village. Two meals a day basically was wealth. But I was just an ordinary one.
my first though was the kitchen. i personally prefer baking, because I’m not a very good cook. i wish i could cook though.
I am cooking lots of food. I wish I was a cook then I could cook everything on the planet in terms of food. I also wish I was a cook so I could see the inside of kitchens and all the ingredients aND WORK that goes into our food. I would also be very proud of all the food I cook.
to cook would be great.unfortunately i am handicapped in this department. it has been a recent dream of mine ever since i started watching those tv cook shows. somehow those fat cooks started looking like charming artists
she was gold on gold on gold
(laid langorously like a banquet
on the hot sand at noon)
apollo nicknamed himself midas
(he isn’t the sun god for nothing)
and i’m an awestruck fan.
i know you’d always do this task for me and honey, i’d lie about the food just to make u smile even if the foul smell i cannot take, challenges me to hurl, i’ll love you still
I love to cook. When I was younger my grandma used to bring me into the big black and white kitchen. It smelled like sweet roasted peppers and meatballs. Ever since I was little the smell of those two things have made me sick. It reminds me of burning skin and screams.
I AM COOK.
“What do you mean? I’m telling you it can’t be done!” They both stood in the kitchen, it was far too late for this. The order was ridiculous and he was clocking out in an hour, “Look get Jerry to do this one I got a class tonight.”
She is cheerful in a miserable place
her cheeks are round in a friendly face and
she is warm and kind like ovens standing on iron legs
she holds you with her hands that have kneaded bread
needed you to tell her that you loved her
like the mother that you’ve never had
did you?
The humanoid was making something. It stirred randomly in a large container. it sniffed and said “Mmmmmm”. I sneaked up behind it, and when I smelled the fumes coming from the container, I said “Mmmmmm” too.
Cooking food is not my thing. I can cook, but I definitely choose not to. But we have to cook for food. We need food to survive. What I can cook is pasta, chicken, you know? The little things. I don’t complain about not being the best cook. I can bake. To me. that’s the best thing in the world
I pulled on the apron slowly, the agony of the chore was staggering. Yet everyday I do the same ritual, the same chore over and over again. I hate it, they call it my burden, my job. But what job? I’m not paid for it, I receive nothing for it. Nevertheless everyday I drag myself through the chore, like forcing a hot iron brand around my wrists. Everyday they eat, they eat a not a word falls from their gluttony thick lips.
cook.. cook some stories to kill your time… cook some food to win someone’s heart…. cook something to fill your stomach…. why is this word always associated with femininity?
Hmmm…. cooking is good when you are in a good mood… otherwise …. its damn boring..
Cook your life.. add different spices… try new recipes…….add flavor to your dishes……
Let others feel happy and you also in their compliments………
Cooking is actually kind of hard in a way. The last time I cooked was for my mom because needed a quick fix to get her a present for Mother’s Day. Today, my sister is cooking pancakes because she really likes them. But I make cereal instead because I like that more than pancakes. Though I have to admit original house of pancakes has the best pancakes that I have ever eaten. I actually finished the whole plate of chocolate chip pancakes and it was heavenly. I wonder how they cook it. Chefs have putty awesome hats too. They are so tall and puffy. I remember when I was younger I always wanted to squish it because it was so big though I don’t know the point of them.