A dense fog rose from the pits. Arturo knew what that meant; unfortunately, he had no means of escaping the misted swamp. He turned the thoughts—dark thoughts, premonitions of what was to come—over and over in his mind, but he didn’t quite know why he was doing it. After all, there was no sense in trying to think of a way out of this; his fate was sealed the moment he crossed into the shadowy woods.
Life is the pits; sometimes, it is like cherries that require taking the pits out. Other times, it’s like bananas. Don’t ask why that makes sense; just go with it. Because life can use a little challenge.
Kaleigh Distaffen
Every once in a while things get bad…its sad how it happens, it just sneaks up on you then “bam!” you’re in the pits. Do you have anyone to help you out? Can you climb out yourself? I certainly hope so, I’ve been stuck in the pits one too many times myself. Love helps, sometimes.
Tracy
Shadowy things crawled up from those pits. The pits were infamous in the wilds of the city; in those pits, demons nested and hurried unsuspecting victims through a vast network of tunnels, whereupon they would feast. Nobody returned alive if they got too unfortunately close to one of those pits.
pits are like arm pits. you work hard and they get smelly. you shave them and they get itchy. i don’t think anyone really likes arm pits. but pits could be from the pit of a apricot. and everyone likes apricots.
Ron Weasly
From a distance they looked like pock marks in the green grass, mimicking the texture of the moon’s surface. When they got closer, however, they could look down into the pits–as deep as a man was tall–and see the lost things. Shoes and belt buckles, kitchen knives and milk saucers glimmered dully under the moonlight. There was even a baby bat who fluttered up into the sky as they passed.
I ran and ran. They were chasing me. My arm pits were sweating like crazy. It was like Niagara Falls under my arms. So much for putting on deodorant. I couldn’t stand this anymore. I couldn’t let them keep on chasing me. I had to stop this.
Ashley
one time my baby cousin was eating an apricot and she almost swallowed the pit. luckily, though, i was there in my shining armor to save her from catastrophe- my prize, a slimy, gross apricot pit (which in greek, has the adorable label of koukoutsi).
Alex Soletska
arm pits. When I think of pits i think ofmy favorite deoderant, which used to be screct, I’m a girl btw, but now i much prefer dove, yet i bought a baby powder scented deoderannt fro m secret, and i was like, wow! this is waaayyy better than dove.
The soft aroma of the white house she remembered so well; the sunlight dancing off the walls; the rugs laid in perfect rest. Streaming across, the wind would make the curtains in the kitchen shake their sweet transparent heads. And on the counter, an empty bowl of cherry pits.
Myona
Pits of peaches. Their brown spherical shape with divots in it and the inner fuzz.
The pits of despair is where in princess bride the guy – what’s his name … Carey Elweys found himself… That was the pits. And when he got out … man .. I think he was mad. and he ate a lot and then was in Kiss the Girls… which was less popular. Where is he now?
Jasonl
I feel really down in the pits. My dog ran away, the hairdryer electrocuted me, I stubbed my toe on the table for the fifth time today. Besides that, a bus splashed me with sewer water, and on top of ALL that, I fell off a cliff.
Pits are like life. They trap us when we least expect it. We need to find a way out. Life finds you this way, very often.. Sometimes, we need someone else to pull us out of our pit, and save us.
Lauren
it was so hot outside that jim was sweating through his shirt. normally this would have been okay. but today jim was at a wedding. and he was sweating from his crotch while wearing khakis
peter h klein
arm pits. arm pits excrete sweat. you cant wear light coloured tops if you excrete a lot of sweat. otherwise you end up having to dry them underneath a hand dryer in a public toilet. without them though, we’d just explode with sweat intake. imagine that. an anarism of sweat.
rosie
My armpits sweat a lot. I get these huge swamps under my arms and I’ll joke about it but really I feel self-conscious. I’m a 16 year old girl and I wear unscented Mitchum but it doesn’t help the moisture. I don’t stink or anything but it’s still embarrassing. I know it doesn’t make me ugly and it’s natural because I’m a brunette but you know? I’m in highschool. That’s just kind of not cool.
Marianne
arms are funny things, esp what’s up when you raise your arms and the pits are exposed. who writes about pits? they are stinky, smelly and moist, three of the least appealing words on the planet. tucson is also called the armpit of AZ…
sweat shower hair boys gross dove doctors office to not sweat tickle pickle dickle shickle cant think of anything else or thinking too hard. cherries. peaches. fruits. everything has pits. animal wise and human wise..i think. why is it PIT
meow
they are dark and dingy, they engulf people, they are metaphorical, they consume peoples desires, they are traps, they force people into situations they dont want, they ruin plans, they challenge people, they are the thing you least expect but come across the most.
steve
his pits were gross. and smelly. and hairy. but other than that there seemed to be no flaw in him that i could see. and i supposes i could forgive the smell, he had just ran around the track after all.
Arm pits are stinky. Golf pits wre your ball can get stuck. Or holes in the ground can be a pit.myou can make a trap with pits as shown in movies quite often.
Lindsay
It wasn’t long before I looked down… I could smell it. “Eugh! Get off of me, fiend!” a small pit ferret had just nibbled at my leg. The little fellow tipped his hat and went on his way. Strange are these days of late. I’d best keep my wits about me.
looks like youre down in the pit, crying
in a ditch, but you’re a chapter behind
me and you’ll need to write a novel to catch
up. Because you didn;t get it when i was you
and now that you’re me I’m the only one who
knows. Smile like it’s all perfect, look
at your reflection and scream at the act.
gringringrin before it ges grim; he’ll be back for
moremoremore. shoot him down and watch him ffffall.
In the pits of darkness and despair I linger, trying to think my way out. Or rather, NOT think about it at all. I simply feel.
Keri
sometimes life is just the pits. You think everything is going well and then your internet breaks down or the car – or worse. Luckily I know how to get out of the pits – just climb up to the top and get going again. It’s easy. Just do it.
Tracy
today wasnt any ordinanry day, today was THE day that i would walk the girl of my dreams home. i told her “meet me at the corner of out street, ill be there at 8am”, but the worst of the worst happened.. i had to stay up all night to do my project that was asigned a month ago and is do today. I forgot to set my alarm and
comepletely knocked out! i woke up at 7:45, i had 15 minutes to get ready. JUST 15! i couldnt do in time, theres no way i could get ready in 15 minutes to meet the girl of my dreams down the street, but i couldnt give up now! So i rushed to the shower, (got out in 5 minutes), changed in 5, brushed my teeth in 3 and left the house to meet her.I couldnt believe it! i made it down the street, waiting for the girl of my dreams, with a minute to spare. Nothing was going to bring me down today. Until.. I smelt something. I just knew that couldnt of been me recking so badly, but i had to check. so i lifted my arm up and little did i know, i forgot to deoterize my pits!! here i am, waiting for the girl of my dreams, with the smeliest pits ever. i couldnt do it, i was too embaressed. she was already walking towards me, i only thought of one thing to do, RUUUUUUUNNNN!
so i did. and that grandson, was the bigest mistake of my life.
valeria
Pits.. Pits are holes. Deep dark holes. There are pits underwater and there are pits on land. We can’t have pits where I live, we’re too close to the ocean for them. Pits can be a scary place, like a prison. People can get trapped in pits. Isn’t that scary to think about?
amrpits smell real bad sometimes, black people have a different sweat smell, which is kinda weird: it smells peppery i find… pits can also be like a pit, a hole you know, like totally depressing either wary dudeeeee wharves
Catherine Lindsay
There are many kind of pits. there are under arm pits, or a foam pit, or a pit int the ground. even though the last one really doesnt make sence. Pits can me weird, pits can be life saving, but most pits ane boring. what makes your pits interesting? Dye your underarm hair.
Shannon
Pits. Like, this place is the pits? Or, “God my pits smell.” Either way. I think its kind of weird that some guys have a fetish with pits. Like, ew. Gross! Who cares they’re just the underpart of my arm…
I don’t know but the whole thing seems kinda fucked up to me.
Julia Katherine
scary, dangerous music festivals,compact. Or smelly and unwashed, freshly coated with deodorant and flowery smell. Brad pit probably wears designer deodorant if that is possible. He may even have someone to do it for him.
Corinne
“Do you remember the tower?” he asks, studying me with his brows raised.
I hesitate. It’s familiar. I can see myself staring at it with the sun slowly setting behind it. “Vaguely?”
“Then you should remember that the tower is where I first met you and where we would rendezvous.”
“I only remember pink clouds.” My arms cross. “How do I know that you won’t kill me? You kidnapped me! How am I supposed to believe that you were…” I choke. “My boyfriend.”
Pity is in his eyes as he stands from the couch. Cautiously he eases towards me, as I step back. Finally, his hands are on my shoulders, and I can’t escaped pinned against the wall.
For the first time that I can remember, I can’t be invisible. My eyes drop to the ground. If he was my boyfriend, then is that what drew me?
“Mia,” he whispers, lifting my chin to gaze into his eyes. “You don’t remember now, but you might later. But I promise you that you can always trust me. Always.”
He lets go when he sees that he has scared me.
Digging into his pants, he pulls out a wallet and shows me a picture.
Eric’s head is slightly turned away from the camera, his arms around a girl with long blond hair. He’s smiling as he’s whispering into her ears. But instead of studying him, I study the girl. Touching her hips, golden blond hair flows over her holster tank and touches her black mini-skirt. Her skin is tan and her make-up is perfection. Her light blue eyes are laughing along with her white teeth and red lips. Immediately, I know that the girl is me.
I bite my lips and want to cry. My hand slowly comes up to touch my brown hair that is now at the middle of my back.
Shoving the wallet back into his hand, I wipe my eyes and ask, “Was I happy?”
He doesn’t say what he’s thinking, somehow I know. But when answers me, it’s enough. “You were very happy for your circumstances.”
The pit was large and dark. I leaned forward and peered over the edge, swallowing hard. A chill slithered down my spine as a few pebbles slid out from beneath my feet and tumbled over the edge into the seemingly endless hole. I felt the sharp point of a spear jab my back. I almost shrieked.
“Go on,” one particularly gruff-looking guard grunted. “Look, I know it’s tough, but it’s the king’s orders. Now jump.”
That’s when I closed my eyes and fell forward.
Where are we now? It’s dark. Darker than I thought it would be. Desperate. Alone with these swirling black vortexes. They’ll find us someday, you know. I never thought I’d die alone. Now I’m alone here with you down here and we only have one life left.
Who remembers the pits of despair in The Princess Bride?
arm pits always gross me out. whether they’re my own or someone else’s, I can’t stand them.
” God “…anne cried ” Thats the pitts , you poor thing !. Thats a lousy thing to happen ” .
A bowl of peach pits sat on the bench beside Suzanne. She carefully cut another peach in half, scooped out the pit, and munched on the fruit.
And then she saw Josh coming. She grabbed the bowl, shouted something offensive, and began pelting him with the pits.
A dense fog rose from the pits. Arturo knew what that meant; unfortunately, he had no means of escaping the misted swamp. He turned the thoughts—dark thoughts, premonitions of what was to come—over and over in his mind, but he didn’t quite know why he was doing it. After all, there was no sense in trying to think of a way out of this; his fate was sealed the moment he crossed into the shadowy woods.
Life is the pits; sometimes, it is like cherries that require taking the pits out. Other times, it’s like bananas. Don’t ask why that makes sense; just go with it. Because life can use a little challenge.
Every once in a while things get bad…its sad how it happens, it just sneaks up on you then “bam!” you’re in the pits. Do you have anyone to help you out? Can you climb out yourself? I certainly hope so, I’ve been stuck in the pits one too many times myself. Love helps, sometimes.
Shadowy things crawled up from those pits. The pits were infamous in the wilds of the city; in those pits, demons nested and hurried unsuspecting victims through a vast network of tunnels, whereupon they would feast. Nobody returned alive if they got too unfortunately close to one of those pits.
pits are like arm pits. you work hard and they get smelly. you shave them and they get itchy. i don’t think anyone really likes arm pits. but pits could be from the pit of a apricot. and everyone likes apricots.
From a distance they looked like pock marks in the green grass, mimicking the texture of the moon’s surface. When they got closer, however, they could look down into the pits–as deep as a man was tall–and see the lost things. Shoes and belt buckles, kitchen knives and milk saucers glimmered dully under the moonlight. There was even a baby bat who fluttered up into the sky as they passed.
I ran and ran. They were chasing me. My arm pits were sweating like crazy. It was like Niagara Falls under my arms. So much for putting on deodorant. I couldn’t stand this anymore. I couldn’t let them keep on chasing me. I had to stop this.
one time my baby cousin was eating an apricot and she almost swallowed the pit. luckily, though, i was there in my shining armor to save her from catastrophe- my prize, a slimy, gross apricot pit (which in greek, has the adorable label of koukoutsi).
arm pits. When I think of pits i think ofmy favorite deoderant, which used to be screct, I’m a girl btw, but now i much prefer dove, yet i bought a baby powder scented deoderannt fro m secret, and i was like, wow! this is waaayyy better than dove.
The soft aroma of the white house she remembered so well; the sunlight dancing off the walls; the rugs laid in perfect rest. Streaming across, the wind would make the curtains in the kitchen shake their sweet transparent heads. And on the counter, an empty bowl of cherry pits.
Pits of peaches. Their brown spherical shape with divots in it and the inner fuzz.
The pits of despair is where in princess bride the guy – what’s his name … Carey Elweys found himself… That was the pits. And when he got out … man .. I think he was mad. and he ate a lot and then was in Kiss the Girls… which was less popular. Where is he now?
I feel really down in the pits. My dog ran away, the hairdryer electrocuted me, I stubbed my toe on the table for the fifth time today. Besides that, a bus splashed me with sewer water, and on top of ALL that, I fell off a cliff.
Pits are like life. They trap us when we least expect it. We need to find a way out. Life finds you this way, very often.. Sometimes, we need someone else to pull us out of our pit, and save us.
it was so hot outside that jim was sweating through his shirt. normally this would have been okay. but today jim was at a wedding. and he was sweating from his crotch while wearing khakis
arm pits. arm pits excrete sweat. you cant wear light coloured tops if you excrete a lot of sweat. otherwise you end up having to dry them underneath a hand dryer in a public toilet. without them though, we’d just explode with sweat intake. imagine that. an anarism of sweat.
My armpits sweat a lot. I get these huge swamps under my arms and I’ll joke about it but really I feel self-conscious. I’m a 16 year old girl and I wear unscented Mitchum but it doesn’t help the moisture. I don’t stink or anything but it’s still embarrassing. I know it doesn’t make me ugly and it’s natural because I’m a brunette but you know? I’m in highschool. That’s just kind of not cool.
arms are funny things, esp what’s up when you raise your arms and the pits are exposed. who writes about pits? they are stinky, smelly and moist, three of the least appealing words on the planet. tucson is also called the armpit of AZ…
sweat shower hair boys gross dove doctors office to not sweat tickle pickle dickle shickle cant think of anything else or thinking too hard. cherries. peaches. fruits. everything has pits. animal wise and human wise..i think. why is it PIT
they are dark and dingy, they engulf people, they are metaphorical, they consume peoples desires, they are traps, they force people into situations they dont want, they ruin plans, they challenge people, they are the thing you least expect but come across the most.
his pits were gross. and smelly. and hairy. but other than that there seemed to be no flaw in him that i could see. and i supposes i could forgive the smell, he had just ran around the track after all.
Arm pits are stinky. Golf pits wre your ball can get stuck. Or holes in the ground can be a pit.myou can make a trap with pits as shown in movies quite often.
It wasn’t long before I looked down… I could smell it. “Eugh! Get off of me, fiend!” a small pit ferret had just nibbled at my leg. The little fellow tipped his hat and went on his way. Strange are these days of late. I’d best keep my wits about me.
looks like youre down in the pit, crying
in a ditch, but you’re a chapter behind
me and you’ll need to write a novel to catch
up. Because you didn;t get it when i was you
and now that you’re me I’m the only one who
knows. Smile like it’s all perfect, look
at your reflection and scream at the act.
gringringrin before it ges grim; he’ll be back for
moremoremore. shoot him down and watch him ffffall.
enjoy the show.
In the pits of darkness and despair I linger, trying to think my way out. Or rather, NOT think about it at all. I simply feel.
sometimes life is just the pits. You think everything is going well and then your internet breaks down or the car – or worse. Luckily I know how to get out of the pits – just climb up to the top and get going again. It’s easy. Just do it.
today wasnt any ordinanry day, today was THE day that i would walk the girl of my dreams home. i told her “meet me at the corner of out street, ill be there at 8am”, but the worst of the worst happened.. i had to stay up all night to do my project that was asigned a month ago and is do today. I forgot to set my alarm and
comepletely knocked out! i woke up at 7:45, i had 15 minutes to get ready. JUST 15! i couldnt do in time, theres no way i could get ready in 15 minutes to meet the girl of my dreams down the street, but i couldnt give up now! So i rushed to the shower, (got out in 5 minutes), changed in 5, brushed my teeth in 3 and left the house to meet her.I couldnt believe it! i made it down the street, waiting for the girl of my dreams, with a minute to spare. Nothing was going to bring me down today. Until.. I smelt something. I just knew that couldnt of been me recking so badly, but i had to check. so i lifted my arm up and little did i know, i forgot to deoterize my pits!! here i am, waiting for the girl of my dreams, with the smeliest pits ever. i couldnt do it, i was too embaressed. she was already walking towards me, i only thought of one thing to do, RUUUUUUUNNNN!
so i did. and that grandson, was the bigest mistake of my life.
Pits.. Pits are holes. Deep dark holes. There are pits underwater and there are pits on land. We can’t have pits where I live, we’re too close to the ocean for them. Pits can be a scary place, like a prison. People can get trapped in pits. Isn’t that scary to think about?
amrpits smell real bad sometimes, black people have a different sweat smell, which is kinda weird: it smells peppery i find… pits can also be like a pit, a hole you know, like totally depressing either wary dudeeeee wharves
There are many kind of pits. there are under arm pits, or a foam pit, or a pit int the ground. even though the last one really doesnt make sence. Pits can me weird, pits can be life saving, but most pits ane boring. what makes your pits interesting? Dye your underarm hair.
Pits. Like, this place is the pits? Or, “God my pits smell.” Either way. I think its kind of weird that some guys have a fetish with pits. Like, ew. Gross! Who cares they’re just the underpart of my arm…
I don’t know but the whole thing seems kinda fucked up to me.
scary, dangerous music festivals,compact. Or smelly and unwashed, freshly coated with deodorant and flowery smell. Brad pit probably wears designer deodorant if that is possible. He may even have someone to do it for him.
“Do you remember the tower?” he asks, studying me with his brows raised.
I hesitate. It’s familiar. I can see myself staring at it with the sun slowly setting behind it. “Vaguely?”
“Then you should remember that the tower is where I first met you and where we would rendezvous.”
“I only remember pink clouds.” My arms cross. “How do I know that you won’t kill me? You kidnapped me! How am I supposed to believe that you were…” I choke. “My boyfriend.”
Pity is in his eyes as he stands from the couch. Cautiously he eases towards me, as I step back. Finally, his hands are on my shoulders, and I can’t escaped pinned against the wall.
For the first time that I can remember, I can’t be invisible. My eyes drop to the ground. If he was my boyfriend, then is that what drew me?
“Mia,” he whispers, lifting my chin to gaze into his eyes. “You don’t remember now, but you might later. But I promise you that you can always trust me. Always.”
He lets go when he sees that he has scared me.
Digging into his pants, he pulls out a wallet and shows me a picture.
Eric’s head is slightly turned away from the camera, his arms around a girl with long blond hair. He’s smiling as he’s whispering into her ears. But instead of studying him, I study the girl. Touching her hips, golden blond hair flows over her holster tank and touches her black mini-skirt. Her skin is tan and her make-up is perfection. Her light blue eyes are laughing along with her white teeth and red lips. Immediately, I know that the girl is me.
I bite my lips and want to cry. My hand slowly comes up to touch my brown hair that is now at the middle of my back.
Shoving the wallet back into his hand, I wipe my eyes and ask, “Was I happy?”
He doesn’t say what he’s thinking, somehow I know. But when answers me, it’s enough. “You were very happy for your circumstances.”
I love eating cherries right off the tree. And it is a good thing they have pits, or I’d probably gorge myself until I was sick.
The pit was large and dark. I leaned forward and peered over the edge, swallowing hard. A chill slithered down my spine as a few pebbles slid out from beneath my feet and tumbled over the edge into the seemingly endless hole. I felt the sharp point of a spear jab my back. I almost shrieked.
“Go on,” one particularly gruff-looking guard grunted. “Look, I know it’s tough, but it’s the king’s orders. Now jump.”
That’s when I closed my eyes and fell forward.
Where are we now? It’s dark. Darker than I thought it would be. Desperate. Alone with these swirling black vortexes. They’ll find us someday, you know. I never thought I’d die alone. Now I’m alone here with you down here and we only have one life left.