jun smacks toma with the pan. on the head.
“next time you want to have sex on studie” he says. “tell me first about it.”
toma grins, shamelessly. “you like it.”
“maybe”
“i know you’d like it.”
jun hits his head again.
rahma
Peter? Where are you? I pwrsonally never got into the whole peter pan thing — even the noewer movie version. I just got some new pans, they’re red. I have no idea why I bought red ones, they’re sorta ugly. But tthey’re nice to cook in.
Linda
The pan sizzled and I dropped it, in my fright and confusion. I yelled aloud and sucked on the burning welt that was forming on my right hand. My mother used to to cook, but ever since she was taken horribly ill, I’ve had to complete her jobs, washing the laundry, cooking the meals, harvesting the fruit and vegetables. Now, as I lay, looking at the fallen pan, tears welled up in my eyes and I sunk to my knees. My little brother waddled in.
“What are you doing, Mina?” He asked, crumbling his green tunic in between his fat fingers.
I sat, cradling the pan, it’s leftover heat warming my shaking fingers. “I don’t know.” I told him.
He sat next to me, resting his curly red head onto my shoulder, saying nothing, yet saying everything.
It was all the comfort I needed.
A pan is a good defense to hold off those old hillbillies, especially the retarded ones, so remember kids, always bring a pan when you walk alone on the streets at night.
my mother told me to the cupboard. when i opened it she asked for a pan.
looking to the dusty, termite ruined wood.
there is nothing there.
“get me the pan.”
oh, mom – there is nothing there.
anonymous
black
hard
skillet
campfire
country
late nights
bonfires
biscuits and gravy
eggs
bacon
family
grease
stove
camping
He took the frying pan and banged it on the wall. He rejoiced at hearing the sound the pan made on the wall. He uttered a strange smile, sinister and plunged the pan on his head wincing as the pain took over his senses.
Neelam
I bend over the sink, sleeves pushed past my elbows, my hands trembling as I lean on the warm, wet metal of the sink. The pan lies cowering in the far side of the sink in those last few inches of slowly draining, bubbling, oil blackened water. My skin is both dry and waterlogged, and I should have worn gloves. But I don’t care. I can’t get it clean. I can’t even get this damn pan clean. If I can’t even wash my dishes properly, how will I ever get anything else in order? It’s too hard. It’s all too hard.
somewhere beyond my window there is a lost boy, and he burns with love for a home he never had.
he left his childhood behind for a world that was never made to last; a world where he can be everything and nothing all at once (king of here and there), and youthless for just a moment. he’s on the far side of the night (second star to the right), dreaming about my window, and wendy, and the shadow he still cannot find.
(somewhere beyond my window there is an eternal boy who is lost, who travels by starlight and dreams of the life he left behind.)
somewhere beyond my window there is a lost boy, and he burns with love for a home he never had.
he left his childhood behind for a world that was never made to last; a world where he can be everything and nothing all at once (king of here and there), and youthless for just a moment. he’s on the far side of the night (second start to the right), dreaming about my window, and wendy, and the shadow he still cannot find.
(somewhere beyond my window there is an eternal boy who is lost, who travels by starlight and dreams of the life he left behind.)
I looked into the fire, the red embers glaring back at me. The camera panned to the left. “cut!” the director said.
Shanae
THe pan is a revolutionary object that is so redicultousy…… Whatever. Misspeleed. What the heck . What the actual… you know what. Pans are an object used for some comedy’s like slapstick and all that and it is also very prominent in Disney’s Tangled. You can be also talking about Peter Pan .Seeya latter. LAatter Fatter. What????????
Mr. Manny
No quiero escribir nada acerca del pan. Usualmente lo relaciono ocn algo agradable, el calor del hogar. Pero últimamente lo primero en lo que pienso es en carbohidratos y cosas innecesarias. Ya comi dos hoy y eso es mas que suficiente.
Clara
i was cooking in my pan
kya
The wind twirled the brittle leaves up into the sky, catching in his sun bleached curls as he dipped and twirled through the air.
Pan plays his flute and draws me in
You don’t need to focus on that right now
Take a break, his music seems to say
It flows and surges around me
But I cannot afford to listen
Not now, not yet.
I am busy, fluteplayer, and I am sorry
We will dance one day
But tonight?
Tonight I must write!
jun smacks toma with the pan. on the head.
“next time you want to have sex on studie” he says. “tell me first about it.”
toma grins, shamelessly. “you like it.”
“maybe”
“i know you’d like it.”
jun hits his head again.
Peter? Where are you? I pwrsonally never got into the whole peter pan thing — even the noewer movie version. I just got some new pans, they’re red. I have no idea why I bought red ones, they’re sorta ugly. But tthey’re nice to cook in.
The pan sizzled and I dropped it, in my fright and confusion. I yelled aloud and sucked on the burning welt that was forming on my right hand. My mother used to to cook, but ever since she was taken horribly ill, I’ve had to complete her jobs, washing the laundry, cooking the meals, harvesting the fruit and vegetables. Now, as I lay, looking at the fallen pan, tears welled up in my eyes and I sunk to my knees. My little brother waddled in.
“What are you doing, Mina?” He asked, crumbling his green tunic in between his fat fingers.
I sat, cradling the pan, it’s leftover heat warming my shaking fingers. “I don’t know.” I told him.
He sat next to me, resting his curly red head onto my shoulder, saying nothing, yet saying everything.
It was all the comfort I needed.
Stove, bacon, pancakes, food, steak, hamburger, weapon, burnt
cooking, food, kitchen, weapon, burnt, stove, bacon, steak, pancakes,
A pan is a good defense to hold off those old hillbillies, especially the retarded ones, so remember kids, always bring a pan when you walk alone on the streets at night.
something a angry grandma can throw at you when you miss behave lol
my mother told me to the cupboard. when i opened it she asked for a pan.
looking to the dusty, termite ruined wood.
there is nothing there.
“get me the pan.”
oh, mom – there is nothing there.
black
hard
skillet
campfire
country
late nights
bonfires
biscuits and gravy
eggs
bacon
family
grease
stove
camping
food a smacking thing cartoons
nothing
pan the pan was for crazy old insane women who throw it, for people who like to cook awesome stuff.
Pans
weapon
solid
eggs
bacon
food
fairy tale weapons
He took the frying pan and banged it on the wall. He rejoiced at hearing the sound the pan made on the wall. He uttered a strange smile, sinister and plunged the pan on his head wincing as the pain took over his senses.
I bend over the sink, sleeves pushed past my elbows, my hands trembling as I lean on the warm, wet metal of the sink. The pan lies cowering in the far side of the sink in those last few inches of slowly draining, bubbling, oil blackened water. My skin is both dry and waterlogged, and I should have worn gloves. But I don’t care. I can’t get it clean. I can’t even get this damn pan clean. If I can’t even wash my dishes properly, how will I ever get anything else in order? It’s too hard. It’s all too hard.
I cook in a pan and hit people with it
Pan is a god. Pan is alive. Long live pan.
somewhere beyond my window there is a lost boy, and he burns with love for a home he never had.
he left his childhood behind for a world that was never made to last; a world where he can be everything and nothing all at once (king of here and there), and youthless for just a moment. he’s on the far side of the night (second star to the right), dreaming about my window, and wendy, and the shadow he still cannot find.
(somewhere beyond my window there is an eternal boy who is lost, who travels by starlight and dreams of the life he left behind.)
somewhere beyond my window there is a lost boy, and he burns with love for a home he never had.
he left his childhood behind for a world that was never made to last; a world where he can be everything and nothing all at once (king of here and there), and youthless for just a moment. he’s on the far side of the night (second start to the right), dreaming about my window, and wendy, and the shadow he still cannot find.
(somewhere beyond my window there is an eternal boy who is lost, who travels by starlight and dreams of the life he left behind.)
1pan= Perpetuating Another Now
I looked into the fire, the red embers glaring back at me. The camera panned to the left. “cut!” the director said.
THe pan is a revolutionary object that is so redicultousy…… Whatever. Misspeleed. What the heck . What the actual… you know what. Pans are an object used for some comedy’s like slapstick and all that and it is also very prominent in Disney’s Tangled. You can be also talking about Peter Pan .Seeya latter. LAatter Fatter. What????????
No quiero escribir nada acerca del pan. Usualmente lo relaciono ocn algo agradable, el calor del hogar. Pero últimamente lo primero en lo que pienso es en carbohidratos y cosas innecesarias. Ya comi dos hoy y eso es mas que suficiente.
i was cooking in my pan
The wind twirled the brittle leaves up into the sky, catching in his sun bleached curls as he dipped and twirled through the air.
Pan plays his flute and draws me in
You don’t need to focus on that right now
Take a break, his music seems to say
It flows and surges around me
But I cannot afford to listen
Not now, not yet.
I am busy, fluteplayer, and I am sorry
We will dance one day
But tonight?
Tonight I must write!
Peter Pan pranced poetically partially past Polly Park pretending people praised poultry.