every word reminds me of adolescence. you hear the word “straw” and immediately are transported back to that time, sitting on the barstool with your hands next to your bum pushing yourself up, trying to reach the drink. it would be much easier to hold the drink in your hand and drink that way. but you want to use the straw.
Jake Ringwald
Straw hats can be fun, but also a little dangerous. What if that piece of straw is sharp and it stabs you in the head? It’s also fun to chew on a straw when you get your drink. what about those crazy straws, aren’t they the best?
The scent of summer. Strawberries are the very best fruit with which to create memories with your children – the small berries are perfect plucking size, the red juice running down little arms wonderfully sticky.
Molly Evans-Stocks
an object used to drink out of horses eat it hair can be strawy rhymes with draw my mom is talking while im trying to focus i odnt know what to write anymore this word sucks worthless
lin
Straw used to be for composting strawberries hence the name. It’s kind of yellowish grainy stalks. It is used for animals to sleep on. Some women have hair that looks like straw usually with too much bleach.
Cat
it’s just a thin plastic tube through which you can suck up a cold beverage. but I remember as a kid wondering if they could have been used when they were making mummies, you know, to suck their brains out through their noses… eww…
Straws. Straws in chocolate shakes. Straw hats. Last straw-it’s the last straw. I don’t have a particularly strong relationship with straws in hats, and I rarely say it is the last straw, because I’m always forgiving and giving people more chances than they very likely deserve. Or maybe they do deserve them. But, I do love straws in chocolate shakes. It brings back fond childhood memories.
-She pulled on the straw and drank the sweet, sugary beverage.
-He watched fascinated. Never had seeing someone take a drink seemed sexier to him; the way her lips pursed and puckered with every swallow, as if she were kissing some invisible being.
-She continued reading her book and enjoying her lemonade. It was fizzy, savory and fresh and it reminded her of a summer day at the beach.
-He was awed at the simple gestures that crossed her face as she read on, turning each page delicately and at the way she sat on the stool, her ankles crossed. He did not know if the show was meant for him or if he only wished it were.
He stood there with the sun streaming in behind him and finally removed the chewed remains of straw from is mouth, “I miss you”.
That was all he said before he turned and walked back to the house.
Deanna
Straw straw strawberry pie. Triplets and blondes and horses with hey. Straws to drink from, straws to break a camel’s back. Strawberry Strawberry Strawberry Pie.
the last…the final thing, so tiny and insignificant seeming, and yet enough to tip the balance…..dried out and sweet as honey, shining in the evening sun that glows like molten toffee late in august
georgie
Straw, hay, horses. My red barn on the field on the island. My family is off on a boat trip today in Gig Harbor. Good morning Savannah, while it’s the afternoon here. It’s odd having so great a distance between yourself and the ones you love that time itself can’t keep it straight. A great divide, but tighter than ever, absence really does make the heart grow fonder.
Straw.
That was the colour of her hair, mixed with the golden colours of autumn, smelling like lilacs and happy memories.
Those were the days when I’d laugh as her hair brushed across my face, as we pushed each other, rolling down the hill, just children, Just friends.
But now that’s all gone, and what’s replaced that sweet smell of straw is an empty hole, an aching heart, and ashes, ashes. A dark abyss of depression that never ends.
the brittle yellow straw was a wonderful place for the wee mice that were looking for a place to start their family. They knew the straw would keep them warm in the winter months and it was a great place to hide from the cat. Ahhh, the cat – a evil pointy eared animal
Darci
Straw is what horses eat. Or maybe that is hay… What is the difference between straw and hay anyway? Heh, that rhymes! So horses might sleep or stand or eat straw, but, because we don’t know if hay = straw, then we don’t exactly know which is accurate. Sucks.
Tha argument was the last straw. Every day it is the same thing and this time it will be different – there are no ‘other’ times. No longer will I sit here waiting for my life to be sucked out of me.
Mararita Bray
A single piece of straw hung from the corner of her mouth. She cocked her head to the side and shielded her eyes from the blazing mid-day sun.
“I’d give ‘er three days ’till she pours.”
Far on the horizon there were storm clouds, although there was no way she could have seen them. The man looked at her curiously.
“And how do you know for sure?”
“I can smell it.”
“You can smell the rain? Oh and I suppose you can hear the approaching nuclear war predicted for 2099 too?”
“Well sure. I can turn on the news and there it’ll be. Every time a politician opens his mouth, I hear the approach of disaster.”
I was sitting in the barn, drinking a bottle of water. It was very eerie, as if there haven’t been anyone or any animals in here; it was just deserted. Only filled with a bunch of straw and hay.
It was the last straw – and it gave her one more opportunity to see just how she sucked! With delight, she grabbed it, and stuck it into a glass of orange juice, remembering just how much fun, even when she was a child with a sore throat, it was to be waited on hand and foot by her mother.
Valerahaha
Straw man. Straw poll. Drinking straw. Hay bales. Needle in a haystack. Huff and puff and blow this house down.
Light a match and watch it burn, watch it burn, watch it all burn, burn away.
the straw swished about in his drink like a cat’s tail, the milk’s current undulating within and around it. i watched his fingers tap on the glass like piano keys, the condensation rolling over his skin and marring it like paper. his fingernails knew no dirt, and his lips were smooth planes of perfection.
straw hat on my head so that the sun doesn’t burn my eyes. straw basket in my lap filled with little toys and lots of surprise. straw chair isn’t safe for your butt because it’s not that sturdy. straw napkin holder your friend made you and you’ll always own it. straw mat for your body when you’re at the beach. straw art work you made that was pretty fucking neat. straw for the horses, straw for your nose, straw for your soda, straw grass skirt.
lauren
Straw
The last one of course.
The last straw with me is when you put my life in jeopardy. I generally try to stick to a two to three strike rule, but when you screw with my life, whether you meant to or not, – whether you knew you were or not – I won’t have anything to do with you.
I may not stop caring or wishing things were different, but I’m not a complete idiot. (Though I’ll sometimes wonder how bright I could be to have missed this trait in you.)
I would never be so careless with a life. That you would be, speaks volumes.
– May you get every single thing in life, that you deserve.
Noisy Quiet
she stuck the straw in her iced coffee and ran. she was going to be late. she was going to be late for the biggest interview of her life. as she dashed across the street she stumbled and coffee splashed across her white blouse. shit. shit. shiiit. this of course would happen to her. who else. she bought a scarf to attempt to hide the unruly stain across her chest.
claire
my son always wants to drink out of a straw. i’m not sure why. perhaps it’s the logical transition from bottle to sippy cup and then a cup with a straw. oddly enough, we have a huge bag of straws. leftovers from when my gramma was ailing and couldn’t really sit up to drink her drinks. lucky little guy… getting to share his great grandmother’s stuffs. miss her.
I like straws. Straws are bendy. Straws are magical. I FREAKING LOVE STRAWS. Who doesn’t love straws… NOBODY. Because everybody loves straws. Straws are amazing.
Rebecca
bits and pieces on the ground of the cornmaze
I’d find it it my apartment after you left
scattered over my bedroom floor where you’d kicked off your shoes.
Okay that is the last straw. I have had it with your lousy service. The popular straw that seems to break every camels back has broken yet another one. Dang! straw, Dang!
i like straws. no wonder they are used for so many things like hats and farms. who knowss what else you can do? who invented them anyway? wtf!??! who knows
ashley
One metal cup full of chocolate milkshake. One whipped cream mountain. One cherry. Two straws. Yes, TWO straws. That meant something. Something important. Finally official enough to share a milkshake. Might as well get married.
She sat down in the straw filled back of a truck, trying her best to ignore the complaints from the men around her.
“Haruhi.” Kyouya turned towards her, “Why exactly is this considered enjoyable? I don’t understand why commoners would find sitting in the back of an itchy, hay filled truck while riding around a forest fun in the least bit.”
She sighed, looking from his face to the others of the Host Club, “Don’t look at me like I’m supposed to know. I haven’t been on one of these things since I was two sempai.”
The sides of his lips twitched upward.
straws suck and so do you. boo hoo, whatcha gonna do. i’m gonna getcha, one way or another. with a straw, without a straw, with a straw in my mouth and without a straw in my hat. what does that mean? oh I wish my last post hadn’t disappeared, it was so much better than this one.
tootie
Her straw had sat lightly on the back of her cocoa hair. She was too good to still live in this small town. She wondered where she went wrong. Why did she never leave? How could her big city dreams be reduced to a housewife gardening in the front yard waving to the passersby on their ways to a bigger and better life, while she sat exactly where she had always been.
Kirsten
a straw is something you use to suck things, mostly liquids. I usually drink with straws because is easier. They are also a way to get entertained in boring restaurants. Like, i’m bored, so i’m just going to play with my straw and throw paper at people.
every word reminds me of adolescence. you hear the word “straw” and immediately are transported back to that time, sitting on the barstool with your hands next to your bum pushing yourself up, trying to reach the drink. it would be much easier to hold the drink in your hand and drink that way. but you want to use the straw.
Straw hats can be fun, but also a little dangerous. What if that piece of straw is sharp and it stabs you in the head? It’s also fun to chew on a straw when you get your drink. what about those crazy straws, aren’t they the best?
The scent of summer. Strawberries are the very best fruit with which to create memories with your children – the small berries are perfect plucking size, the red juice running down little arms wonderfully sticky.
an object used to drink out of horses eat it hair can be strawy rhymes with draw my mom is talking while im trying to focus i odnt know what to write anymore this word sucks worthless
Straw used to be for composting strawberries hence the name. It’s kind of yellowish grainy stalks. It is used for animals to sleep on. Some women have hair that looks like straw usually with too much bleach.
it’s just a thin plastic tube through which you can suck up a cold beverage. but I remember as a kid wondering if they could have been used when they were making mummies, you know, to suck their brains out through their noses… eww…
Straws. Straws in chocolate shakes. Straw hats. Last straw-it’s the last straw. I don’t have a particularly strong relationship with straws in hats, and I rarely say it is the last straw, because I’m always forgiving and giving people more chances than they very likely deserve. Or maybe they do deserve them. But, I do love straws in chocolate shakes. It brings back fond childhood memories.
-She pulled on the straw and drank the sweet, sugary beverage.
-He watched fascinated. Never had seeing someone take a drink seemed sexier to him; the way her lips pursed and puckered with every swallow, as if she were kissing some invisible being.
-She continued reading her book and enjoying her lemonade. It was fizzy, savory and fresh and it reminded her of a summer day at the beach.
-He was awed at the simple gestures that crossed her face as she read on, turning each page delicately and at the way she sat on the stool, her ankles crossed. He did not know if the show was meant for him or if he only wished it were.
He stood there with the sun streaming in behind him and finally removed the chewed remains of straw from is mouth, “I miss you”.
That was all he said before he turned and walked back to the house.
Straw straw strawberry pie. Triplets and blondes and horses with hey. Straws to drink from, straws to break a camel’s back. Strawberry Strawberry Strawberry Pie.
This is the last straw!
the last…the final thing, so tiny and insignificant seeming, and yet enough to tip the balance…..dried out and sweet as honey, shining in the evening sun that glows like molten toffee late in august
Straw, hay, horses. My red barn on the field on the island. My family is off on a boat trip today in Gig Harbor. Good morning Savannah, while it’s the afternoon here. It’s odd having so great a distance between yourself and the ones you love that time itself can’t keep it straight. A great divide, but tighter than ever, absence really does make the heart grow fonder.
Straw.
That was the colour of her hair, mixed with the golden colours of autumn, smelling like lilacs and happy memories.
Those were the days when I’d laugh as her hair brushed across my face, as we pushed each other, rolling down the hill, just children, Just friends.
But now that’s all gone, and what’s replaced that sweet smell of straw is an empty hole, an aching heart, and ashes, ashes. A dark abyss of depression that never ends.
Because straw burns so easily in the fire…
the brittle yellow straw was a wonderful place for the wee mice that were looking for a place to start their family. They knew the straw would keep them warm in the winter months and it was a great place to hide from the cat. Ahhh, the cat – a evil pointy eared animal
Straw is what horses eat. Or maybe that is hay… What is the difference between straw and hay anyway? Heh, that rhymes! So horses might sleep or stand or eat straw, but, because we don’t know if hay = straw, then we don’t exactly know which is accurate. Sucks.
the straw that broke the camels back is one saying that everyone can ponder over and over
turkey in the straw a little catchy tune of happier days gone by
from there i am lost of thought
Tha argument was the last straw. Every day it is the same thing and this time it will be different – there are no ‘other’ times. No longer will I sit here waiting for my life to be sucked out of me.
A single piece of straw hung from the corner of her mouth. She cocked her head to the side and shielded her eyes from the blazing mid-day sun.
“I’d give ‘er three days ’till she pours.”
Far on the horizon there were storm clouds, although there was no way she could have seen them. The man looked at her curiously.
“And how do you know for sure?”
“I can smell it.”
“You can smell the rain? Oh and I suppose you can hear the approaching nuclear war predicted for 2099 too?”
“Well sure. I can turn on the news and there it’ll be. Every time a politician opens his mouth, I hear the approach of disaster.”
I was sitting in the barn, drinking a bottle of water. It was very eerie, as if there haven’t been anyone or any animals in here; it was just deserted. Only filled with a bunch of straw and hay.
It was the last straw – and it gave her one more opportunity to see just how she sucked! With delight, she grabbed it, and stuck it into a glass of orange juice, remembering just how much fun, even when she was a child with a sore throat, it was to be waited on hand and foot by her mother.
Straw man. Straw poll. Drinking straw. Hay bales. Needle in a haystack. Huff and puff and blow this house down.
Light a match and watch it burn, watch it burn, watch it all burn, burn away.
bouncing
on pins and needles —
hayride
hat. Mexico. Farmer. Dark skin. Tan. Hard for some. Soft feeling back plate. New phone.
the straw swished about in his drink like a cat’s tail, the milk’s current undulating within and around it. i watched his fingers tap on the glass like piano keys, the condensation rolling over his skin and marring it like paper. his fingernails knew no dirt, and his lips were smooth planes of perfection.
Even a straw comes to our help when we are deep in the water
She slurped her smoothie from her straw. It was hot and unforgiving outside. Her ears rang with the sounds of life.
straw hat on my head so that the sun doesn’t burn my eyes. straw basket in my lap filled with little toys and lots of surprise. straw chair isn’t safe for your butt because it’s not that sturdy. straw napkin holder your friend made you and you’ll always own it. straw mat for your body when you’re at the beach. straw art work you made that was pretty fucking neat. straw for the horses, straw for your nose, straw for your soda, straw grass skirt.
Straw
The last one of course.
The last straw with me is when you put my life in jeopardy. I generally try to stick to a two to three strike rule, but when you screw with my life, whether you meant to or not, – whether you knew you were or not – I won’t have anything to do with you.
I may not stop caring or wishing things were different, but I’m not a complete idiot. (Though I’ll sometimes wonder how bright I could be to have missed this trait in you.)
I would never be so careless with a life. That you would be, speaks volumes.
– May you get every single thing in life, that you deserve.
she stuck the straw in her iced coffee and ran. she was going to be late. she was going to be late for the biggest interview of her life. as she dashed across the street she stumbled and coffee splashed across her white blouse. shit. shit. shiiit. this of course would happen to her. who else. she bought a scarf to attempt to hide the unruly stain across her chest.
my son always wants to drink out of a straw. i’m not sure why. perhaps it’s the logical transition from bottle to sippy cup and then a cup with a straw. oddly enough, we have a huge bag of straws. leftovers from when my gramma was ailing and couldn’t really sit up to drink her drinks. lucky little guy… getting to share his great grandmother’s stuffs. miss her.
I like straws. Straws are bendy. Straws are magical. I FREAKING LOVE STRAWS. Who doesn’t love straws… NOBODY. Because everybody loves straws. Straws are amazing.
bits and pieces on the ground of the cornmaze
I’d find it it my apartment after you left
scattered over my bedroom floor where you’d kicked off your shoes.
Okay that is the last straw. I have had it with your lousy service. The popular straw that seems to break every camels back has broken yet another one. Dang! straw, Dang!
i like straws. no wonder they are used for so many things like hats and farms. who knowss what else you can do? who invented them anyway? wtf!??! who knows
One metal cup full of chocolate milkshake. One whipped cream mountain. One cherry. Two straws. Yes, TWO straws. That meant something. Something important. Finally official enough to share a milkshake. Might as well get married.
She sat down in the straw filled back of a truck, trying her best to ignore the complaints from the men around her.
“Haruhi.” Kyouya turned towards her, “Why exactly is this considered enjoyable? I don’t understand why commoners would find sitting in the back of an itchy, hay filled truck while riding around a forest fun in the least bit.”
She sighed, looking from his face to the others of the Host Club, “Don’t look at me like I’m supposed to know. I haven’t been on one of these things since I was two sempai.”
The sides of his lips twitched upward.
straws suck and so do you. boo hoo, whatcha gonna do. i’m gonna getcha, one way or another. with a straw, without a straw, with a straw in my mouth and without a straw in my hat. what does that mean? oh I wish my last post hadn’t disappeared, it was so much better than this one.
Her straw had sat lightly on the back of her cocoa hair. She was too good to still live in this small town. She wondered where she went wrong. Why did she never leave? How could her big city dreams be reduced to a housewife gardening in the front yard waving to the passersby on their ways to a bigger and better life, while she sat exactly where she had always been.
a straw is something you use to suck things, mostly liquids. I usually drink with straws because is easier. They are also a way to get entertained in boring restaurants. Like, i’m bored, so i’m just going to play with my straw and throw paper at people.