flour? what the hell? flour… white… an elephant covered with flour. snow-white in flour. people covered with flour, fat, small people, cooked, and the sticky dough oozing down their faces, and the make-up us still smiling on them, smiling cryingly. and they are choking to death in this flour, coughing, drowning
jenny
I had to laugh as she stood there completely white after having discovered the flour.
Mercedes
pasty and it rises and it can make cakes or muffins or cupcakes. but you have to combine it with eggs first. flour is a weird word anyways. is it a grain? or made from one. it kinda looks like coke. but if you snorted it it would congeal and go into your brain and coat it and then expand and the top of your skull would blow off into the sky never to return, you’d just be walking around with your brain exposed constantly. which would be a hazard. safety first, then teamwork.
Anonymous
this word is desrbing a baking product flour used in all breads and cookes two of the greatest things in the world…give me them carbs babe. Love that taste in my mouth… cookies cookies cookis…. makes a huge mess!!!!
amelia
She swiped her hand across her forehead leaving a trail of flour in its wake.
jg
flour
Anonymous
I ran out of flour and had to dash to the neighbour’s to get a cupful.
And what a sight met my eyes..
My neighbour was prancing around in a housecoat wearing makeup and high heels.
Which is okay..for a woman.
Except my neighbour was a MAN.
Sowmiya
is a baking ingrediant that can be found in almost anuything. its white and fluffy and if not cleaned appropriately it can look like your coke habbit is getting the better of you. Flour is the main ingrediant in bread, which is only the greatest food on the planet. in conclusion i am a fan of flour because it makes bread.
MAtt
Flour… not a flower, as in a daisy or something pretty like that. No, it’s something that doesn’t taste pleasant. You can put your fingers in the flour and play around, even leave tiny little finger footprints as you walk your fingertips across the counter, flour spread across the countertop like snow on a street. It’s soft and fluffy enough, flour is. Not something sweet smelling, though. Not like a flower at all.
Abby
Flour. My sister and I once got flour in our cat’s eye. We felt so bad. Poor cat didn’t know how to get it out! We would put flour in our mouths and breathe out because it made our breath look like we were smoking. Flour.
Scott s
jknolm ,jiklm;,.opkl’;,’pklm
Anonymous
flour is used to cook the most delicious foods in the world. It is pronounced the same as flower, but is far from it. I am not sure what flour is originally made out of, but know that cooking would not be the same without it. My mom was not a great cook, so the flour in my house growing up did not get used very fast.
Tyler
Flour, flower. Homophones. I love flour for baking things such as cookies, cakes, mostly desserts. I don’t think I use flour that much for cooking. I miss flour. I can’t help thing of flowers in the sunshine. In a field. Everything seems so beautiful in my mind. Autumn is approaching and soon, cold.
Lily
I think that it just it white. Reminds me of coke. Ha, I would never try coke, It’s too dangerous. But flour also reminds me of doughnuts because my boyfriend and I made them one day when no one was home. It was like the funnest thing ever. ut they tasted disgusting.
Sydney Groth
you make cookies with it. cake is sexy. Cake. Cake. I think it’s white. I always run out of it. Then I always need to go ask my neighbors for it. Then I get nervous. And never ever do it. Frustrating. Then I can’t make my cake or cookies. Or whatever I’m making. Bleh. I should get some balls
TIFFANY
Flour, the beginnings of baking. A cup or two, add sugar and eggs, vanilla. A cookie? A cake? Homespun goodness and warmth. For whom? He’s not around and you’re alone. The cream cheese icing’s on the telephone that won’t ring. He’s out with Jack and Jose again and not you.
Ashley Marie
She mixed together a batch of cookies, flour flying everywhere. It covered the counters, the floor, and every inch of her: from her hair and face to the tips of her red high heeled shoes.
Anonymous
I laughed and shoved the canister across the kitchen counter. “Here,” I said as I turned away from him. “Three cups.”
He paused for a moment, and then took a handful straight from inside the can. I only had time to put my apron over my face, and then the powder was all over me, turning me whiter than a ghost. He was cackling wildly, looking at me and grinning.
Megan
F word….
me
i don’t come into contact with flour very often, but my friend was making pie crusts while on the phone with me tonight, and every other word was inturrupted with a comment on the salt level of the pastry dough. difficult.
lila
A tiny heap of flour upon the kitchen counter was the only proof of a baking attempt. The smoke had cleared from the apartment, and the charred cookie sheet was safely concealed in the dumpster beneath Apt 7A’s litter box mess. Now, that took gumption. But damn it, he was not risking another “poor thing” glance from his work wearied spouse. Unemployment was deepressingly heavy, her contempt was unbearable. Too bad. Because the tiny white pyramind on the counter sat in direct eyeline from her recliner. Mocking him.
@
I like baking bread in the evenings, and I like picking flowers. Isn’t flower and I don’t know something that starts with an H. I haven’t picked flowers in a really long time, but I just made pumpkin pie today and it has flour in it. Nifty. I don’t know what else you could possibly write about something so simple as flour, you know?
Viktoria
Her flour caked face looked straight at me with that “mad momma” look that she had perfected with experience. Then she crooked her finger and it was all over……
cathy
The powder flew threw the air as she hurled the bags toward the floor, screaming as it dusted across his perfectly shined shoes and beautifully pressed trousers.
Lauren (Moony)
I’ve never been good with cooking. flour in my hair. on the floor. everywhere. I liked the smell though. always reminding me of home. of love. That’s the way I always thought it should be for everyone. but not everyone, as I have found, has fond memories of home.
rage
We always baked cookies at my house. He used to say how he loved my kitchen. I remember the flour imprints left on his apron. I don’t know why he always wore the thing. He looked ridiculous, but I loved it.
minustheboat
Flour. The secret ingredient to baking. It creates, it grows.
It wins hearts. It won his. He denies it but I know it’s true. You have to love the girl who bakes you cookies and cakes. Pies and
Bleached
Today I helped Danny bake some prezels with the flour. People thought that we were closing once we ran out of flour but the story was never confirmed and it wasn’t true. There is a penalty for closing the store early.
Kelsey
baking with my mom tomorrow. going to make pumpin bread. i actually dont have flour, but then again i do not bake often. skipped dinner. maybe if i had flour i wouldnt be hungry. no one makes cookies from scrath anymore.
oriana
Her fingers left a line of flour across his cheekbone. When she brushed her hand against him, he could think of nothing else but her. Everything was secondary,
katie
floir
e
Flour is delicious when eaten from your skin
White and snowy like your hands dancing around me
I love the way they embrace me
Like a tornado of dust
White dust
Edgar
THe flour littered the floor, remnants of their recent fight. Even the surrounding cabinets were covered, sticking in the wet patches where water had flew from Darren, who was fortunate enough to be at the sink when the fight had broken. She laughed as she stared at her friends, thinking that the cookies were never going to be ready in time.
Ashley
The flour was used to bake a delicious pie. Which sat in the hot hot sun, slowly ruminating its flavors throughout the room bringing its flavor and our desires to a peak.
Anonymous
flour. there’s flour all over the floor. it’s the first thing that registers when I walk in the room. that tile floor used to be some sort of warm peach or apricot or blush or something but now it’s white and only white. I can’t figure out how it happened, how there’s flour all over the floor, but it doesn’t really matter because all I can think is what a pain it is going to be to clean up.
Florence
then it dusts the counter with white, and the feel of it is like silk, and you roll the dough over and over in your hands, sticky as flesh, sticky like sweat, sticky like the bed sex with smooth sheets and the flour smooths it, smooths it and it’s silky-warm, silky-cool on your sticky hands and at the right moment.
Anonymous
Ack! The flour bag burst as the little particles flew everywhere, covering every surface imaginable. The cupboards, the bowls, the bench, the pastry, they all turned a shade of white as the flour covered them, smothering anything it could touch. I looked at the mess that had transpired, and sighed. Now, of all times, was not the best time for things to go wrong!
Drench
I baked bread from the flour my mother gave me. It didn’t taste like hers bread though. I probably need more practice.
MP
The flour spilled all over the floor. Suddenly Hank burst through the door and said, “You spilled my crack!”
Edthefirst
The flour spilled all over the ground, the two girls standing in the middle of it and laughing. The cookies were forgotten on the counter, blender still standing up in the half-made cookie dough. But baking was never really about baking so much as it was about finding each other again, and that they had done.
flour? what the hell? flour… white… an elephant covered with flour. snow-white in flour. people covered with flour, fat, small people, cooked, and the sticky dough oozing down their faces, and the make-up us still smiling on them, smiling cryingly. and they are choking to death in this flour, coughing, drowning
I had to laugh as she stood there completely white after having discovered the flour.
pasty and it rises and it can make cakes or muffins or cupcakes. but you have to combine it with eggs first. flour is a weird word anyways. is it a grain? or made from one. it kinda looks like coke. but if you snorted it it would congeal and go into your brain and coat it and then expand and the top of your skull would blow off into the sky never to return, you’d just be walking around with your brain exposed constantly. which would be a hazard. safety first, then teamwork.
this word is desrbing a baking product flour used in all breads and cookes two of the greatest things in the world…give me them carbs babe. Love that taste in my mouth… cookies cookies cookis…. makes a huge mess!!!!
She swiped her hand across her forehead leaving a trail of flour in its wake.
flour
I ran out of flour and had to dash to the neighbour’s to get a cupful.
And what a sight met my eyes..
My neighbour was prancing around in a housecoat wearing makeup and high heels.
Which is okay..for a woman.
Except my neighbour was a MAN.
is a baking ingrediant that can be found in almost anuything. its white and fluffy and if not cleaned appropriately it can look like your coke habbit is getting the better of you. Flour is the main ingrediant in bread, which is only the greatest food on the planet. in conclusion i am a fan of flour because it makes bread.
Flour… not a flower, as in a daisy or something pretty like that. No, it’s something that doesn’t taste pleasant. You can put your fingers in the flour and play around, even leave tiny little finger footprints as you walk your fingertips across the counter, flour spread across the countertop like snow on a street. It’s soft and fluffy enough, flour is. Not something sweet smelling, though. Not like a flower at all.
Flour. My sister and I once got flour in our cat’s eye. We felt so bad. Poor cat didn’t know how to get it out! We would put flour in our mouths and breathe out because it made our breath look like we were smoking. Flour.
jknolm ,jiklm;,.opkl’;,’pklm
flour is used to cook the most delicious foods in the world. It is pronounced the same as flower, but is far from it. I am not sure what flour is originally made out of, but know that cooking would not be the same without it. My mom was not a great cook, so the flour in my house growing up did not get used very fast.
Flour, flower. Homophones. I love flour for baking things such as cookies, cakes, mostly desserts. I don’t think I use flour that much for cooking. I miss flour. I can’t help thing of flowers in the sunshine. In a field. Everything seems so beautiful in my mind. Autumn is approaching and soon, cold.
I think that it just it white. Reminds me of coke. Ha, I would never try coke, It’s too dangerous. But flour also reminds me of doughnuts because my boyfriend and I made them one day when no one was home. It was like the funnest thing ever. ut they tasted disgusting.
you make cookies with it. cake is sexy. Cake. Cake. I think it’s white. I always run out of it. Then I always need to go ask my neighbors for it. Then I get nervous. And never ever do it. Frustrating. Then I can’t make my cake or cookies. Or whatever I’m making. Bleh. I should get some balls
Flour, the beginnings of baking. A cup or two, add sugar and eggs, vanilla. A cookie? A cake? Homespun goodness and warmth. For whom? He’s not around and you’re alone. The cream cheese icing’s on the telephone that won’t ring. He’s out with Jack and Jose again and not you.
She mixed together a batch of cookies, flour flying everywhere. It covered the counters, the floor, and every inch of her: from her hair and face to the tips of her red high heeled shoes.
I laughed and shoved the canister across the kitchen counter. “Here,” I said as I turned away from him. “Three cups.”
He paused for a moment, and then took a handful straight from inside the can. I only had time to put my apron over my face, and then the powder was all over me, turning me whiter than a ghost. He was cackling wildly, looking at me and grinning.
F word….
i don’t come into contact with flour very often, but my friend was making pie crusts while on the phone with me tonight, and every other word was inturrupted with a comment on the salt level of the pastry dough. difficult.
A tiny heap of flour upon the kitchen counter was the only proof of a baking attempt. The smoke had cleared from the apartment, and the charred cookie sheet was safely concealed in the dumpster beneath Apt 7A’s litter box mess. Now, that took gumption. But damn it, he was not risking another “poor thing” glance from his work wearied spouse. Unemployment was deepressingly heavy, her contempt was unbearable. Too bad. Because the tiny white pyramind on the counter sat in direct eyeline from her recliner. Mocking him.
I like baking bread in the evenings, and I like picking flowers. Isn’t flower and I don’t know something that starts with an H. I haven’t picked flowers in a really long time, but I just made pumpkin pie today and it has flour in it. Nifty. I don’t know what else you could possibly write about something so simple as flour, you know?
Her flour caked face looked straight at me with that “mad momma” look that she had perfected with experience. Then she crooked her finger and it was all over……
The powder flew threw the air as she hurled the bags toward the floor, screaming as it dusted across his perfectly shined shoes and beautifully pressed trousers.
I’ve never been good with cooking. flour in my hair. on the floor. everywhere. I liked the smell though. always reminding me of home. of love. That’s the way I always thought it should be for everyone. but not everyone, as I have found, has fond memories of home.
We always baked cookies at my house. He used to say how he loved my kitchen. I remember the flour imprints left on his apron. I don’t know why he always wore the thing. He looked ridiculous, but I loved it.
Flour. The secret ingredient to baking. It creates, it grows.
It wins hearts. It won his. He denies it but I know it’s true. You have to love the girl who bakes you cookies and cakes. Pies and
Today I helped Danny bake some prezels with the flour. People thought that we were closing once we ran out of flour but the story was never confirmed and it wasn’t true. There is a penalty for closing the store early.
baking with my mom tomorrow. going to make pumpin bread. i actually dont have flour, but then again i do not bake often. skipped dinner. maybe if i had flour i wouldnt be hungry. no one makes cookies from scrath anymore.
Her fingers left a line of flour across his cheekbone. When she brushed her hand against him, he could think of nothing else but her. Everything was secondary,
floir
Flour is delicious when eaten from your skin
White and snowy like your hands dancing around me
I love the way they embrace me
Like a tornado of dust
White dust
THe flour littered the floor, remnants of their recent fight. Even the surrounding cabinets were covered, sticking in the wet patches where water had flew from Darren, who was fortunate enough to be at the sink when the fight had broken. She laughed as she stared at her friends, thinking that the cookies were never going to be ready in time.
The flour was used to bake a delicious pie. Which sat in the hot hot sun, slowly ruminating its flavors throughout the room bringing its flavor and our desires to a peak.
flour. there’s flour all over the floor. it’s the first thing that registers when I walk in the room. that tile floor used to be some sort of warm peach or apricot or blush or something but now it’s white and only white. I can’t figure out how it happened, how there’s flour all over the floor, but it doesn’t really matter because all I can think is what a pain it is going to be to clean up.
then it dusts the counter with white, and the feel of it is like silk, and you roll the dough over and over in your hands, sticky as flesh, sticky like sweat, sticky like the bed sex with smooth sheets and the flour smooths it, smooths it and it’s silky-warm, silky-cool on your sticky hands and at the right moment.
Ack! The flour bag burst as the little particles flew everywhere, covering every surface imaginable. The cupboards, the bowls, the bench, the pastry, they all turned a shade of white as the flour covered them, smothering anything it could touch. I looked at the mess that had transpired, and sighed. Now, of all times, was not the best time for things to go wrong!
I baked bread from the flour my mother gave me. It didn’t taste like hers bread though. I probably need more practice.
The flour spilled all over the floor. Suddenly Hank burst through the door and said, “You spilled my crack!”
The flour spilled all over the ground, the two girls standing in the middle of it and laughing. The cookies were forgotten on the counter, blender still standing up in the half-made cookie dough. But baking was never really about baking so much as it was about finding each other again, and that they had done.