This toaster is the best toaster you have ever seen. I mean c’mon how badass is it that you can toast TWO pieces of toast at a time!? I remember back in the ’30s when toasters only came with one damn toasting station! Those were some good times… Eating all those half sandwiches while you wait for the other piece of toast to be reasy… So many crumbs… It was like a bread apocalypse.
BitchNig
your settings confuse me
changing always
burning my toast
blackening it’s goodness
my morning
my day until the next
where i hope youll change
damn you toaster
k
burn us into the sidewalks
like a merciless god.
in tucson we tend to worship the sun,
it is equally feared and loved.
often i peer up at it and find it
utterly inscrutable in all its glory.
like a shiny new toaster.
A toaster is a thing that we use, to make our beard more cruncher, and more fun to eat, it’s no tony for Beard, but for other things like pop tarts, and many things that we eat everyday
Lydia
The toaster is useful to the human population, without it we wouldn’t have toast, and without toast we wouldn’t be able to have a satisfactory and delicious breakfast. Toast is a great meal at breakfast since it goes with almost anything.
Gen
He listened, smiling, as she warbled on. Something about her back aching, and how it is always like that when it rains. The tedium of her conversation made him want to distract himself by sticking his hand into a toaster.
tonykeyesjapan
there once was a great toaster- one that everybody loved. she would melt honey on toast like Pooh Bear melted honey on his heart. It was on the eve of Joan’s bar mitzvah that the toaster began to question his existance. who am i? who are these people? the toaster was appalled to find a human hand reaching into the depths of his soul.
Nelli Astvatsatrian
Start talking. She was livid. Eight frickin’ years of legal
shit, and all the stress and prison visits and the money. God the
money! And you lied? She unplugged the toaster and hurled it
squarely at his head.
walking into the kitchen i approached the worktop. the first thing that struck me was the upturned toaster on the floor, then the discarded cutlery. then at last the blood trail that lead out the back door.
What a fantastic kitchen appliance! They have horizontal ones and vertical ones and bagel ones and pizza ones and ones that have coffee pots attached to them and OH MY GOODNESS how could breakfast be more fun?!
D'Ette Marceaux
I just bought a new toaster. One with the fat slots for bagels and thick slices of bread. Really like toast with lots of butter. Good for sopping up the last of the eggs and bacon. Yummy!!
Metal thing that heats up. Used mostly for toast. Inside metal rods heat up the inside and cook the toast.
Hunter
I watched as his body shook but yet was almost still. I still don’t know why he thought he could stick a butter knife in the toaster but he did. Good thing my mum saw him and screamed or he may be gone.
A toaster toasts bread. Not toast. Sorry people. If your toaster toasts toast, you have a pretty sucky toaster. Because you would have had to already toast bread and then need to toast it again. Twice-toasted toast. A toaster can always toast bread. But many toasters need not toast toast. Think again, people toasting toast.
The toaster sat desolate, lonely, waiting to be used. Shimmering in the corner, the crumby corner, toasting, simmering in anticipation.
Jo
EsI love toast. Toast and garlic bread. I can eat them all day long. Then, I found out that baked goods and breads make you… fat. Exac! Why do I have to found out about it! Ruins my baked goods. I love baked goods… Why? Because we studied health in school and we have Canada Food Guide. Well, I know we have to eat everything in moderation.
But the toaster is there and we have bread and butter. Well, guess what happened? Exactly.
The toasted bread and butter tasted relly good. Yummy! Ding! And there goes another toast!
Now where did I put the butter?
a place to put bread, warm, cold when it just sits in the corner of the kitchen, forgotten, only until a morning that you need toast, and usually not turned off except by the user in a hurry yanking its fragile and beaten chord from the socket. so quick and efficient, yet so under appreciated.
lauryn vickers
The toaster was laying there, on the cold floor. Pieces scattered across everywhere like a dilapilated city. No more bread to toast, there’s nothing to celebrate except the end of the end. With some bread and something to toast, what else is there to live for?
A toaster? A toaster? I up my sales quota by twenty
percent, and I get rewarded with a fucking toaster? Should have
been expected, I guess. No way in Hell my boss would be interested
in giving me a raise or promotion. Nope, just stick with the
plastic name tag, the polo shirt, and the khakis, my dear – you’re
already being rewarded by your own efficiency and pride. Maybe I
can sell this thing. Or maybe I can start toasting bread for
grilled cheese and start a grilled cheese truck. That’ll at least
make me a little more money a week, ironically enough.
Belinda Roddie
“Knee”
blood pours out,
like rain clouds
dropping off their load
it trickles down
effortlessly.
and your knees become stamps
that stain the pavement
The toaster sat on the counter, heating. I was so tired. I sat watching, watching, watching. Pop! The bronzed toast snapped me out of my reverie.
Hangover brunch.
She sighed, the sound low and bereft of hope. The morning was long and she was still tired. She waited for the toaster to ding and sipped her coffee. The bereft feeling she kept bottled up inside visible for only a moment before it was interrupted by the ring of her finished toast.
The toaster was making toast. I sighed. I put the creamer into my mug of coffee, swirled the contents inside, and watched the circling pattern form and then diffuse outwards. I thought about you. Then the toaster popped, abruptly interrupting my thoughts.
Like the rest of the one bedroom, the kitchen was sparse, but homey. A microwave and an old toaster, both placed lovingly on the counter, sat just to the side of the equally old refrigerator; the tap, though discolored on the outside, upon further testing, released crystal clear water via the manually installed filter.
It wasn’t perfect, certainly, but it would do.
I turned to the landlord and offered a one-armed shrug. “Guess I’ll take it,”
As I child, a poor, dirty migrant little rat of a thing, I was given a toaster. It had rounded edges and some might go so far as to say that it once gleamed of silver. But that was for the near sighted, who could detect minerals amongst the rust. I was happy though. A toaster it was.
It is a messy way to go – a toaster in a bathtub. And if it hadn’t been for the poison I’d slipped him earlier, I imagine it would have really, really hurt…
My toaster flung bread at me and then fire erupted from its metal lips and it screamed. It screamed so loud my ears bled. It also didnt help that I had toast crumbs on my body. Poor me my mother walked right in and said, “Son are you doing drugs this time?”
Reanna Dixon
Toaster? I’m full of anticipation for a word to express my
feelings right now and you give me fucking toaster? I was so
inspired and so fucking ready because it’s been awhile since I’ve
written and I get fucking toaster. Fuck you, toaster’s
suck.
It’s hidden away. I haven’t had toast for such a long time. Too long. I can barely remember what butter melted on warm bread tastes like.
Amelia
The Toaster is
winding up through burnt terrain
a carpet of fire lay in its wake
until only the red devil danced across the hillside
her alluring eyes drawing you in
whispering peace
Chelsea
darkened bread,
so dry.
SO DRY.
white milk.
mornings in suburbia are so frightening.
I run out to assert that the rest of the world is still
there and alive.
Breathing deeply.
ALIVE.
The toaster pinged up sending the toast flying upwards. The aroma filled the room as Bill slapped a large lump of butter on and began to spread vigorously
.
Angus Rose
How many years’ worth of stale crumbs and dust has accumulated on the bottom of the open slots? I’ve had that toaster for a decade, never been too good at cleaning it. Even when I’m a cloud of dust, this appliance will be sitting somewhere.
It was the toaster that brought me back to that night. The same one that killed him 3 years ago. I couldn’t get rid of it. It was the killer, the only thing I had left of him. The flashback, the way his body just limped there, the grey steel of the toaster reflecting in the light of the bathtub.
Today the toaster blew up just as I was about to get my toast out. I was already in a flap because I was running late and I thought I was going to miss my train. The toaster was the last straw. I walked out the door and kept on walking down the dusty, shingled road to nowhere.
LIz
I question the reality that I live in
with a broken glass bottle on the floor
and some burnt toast in the toaster.
What brought me to this point?
Why can’t I move on?
I’m so stuck in the feeling of insecurity
that I forget to live my life in the moment.
But I need a reimagining, not a makeover.
browned bread, my fucking roommate took forever getting the
toaster from her boyfriend’s house, i can’t believe that she and
laura are so dependent on boys? because why. why do they value the
male opinion so much. what happened in their childhoods to make
them so weak and vulnerable that
This toaster is the best toaster you have ever seen. I mean c’mon how badass is it that you can toast TWO pieces of toast at a time!? I remember back in the ’30s when toasters only came with one damn toasting station! Those were some good times… Eating all those half sandwiches while you wait for the other piece of toast to be reasy… So many crumbs… It was like a bread apocalypse.
your settings confuse me
changing always
burning my toast
blackening it’s goodness
my morning
my day until the next
where i hope youll change
damn you toaster
burn us into the sidewalks
like a merciless god.
in tucson we tend to worship the sun,
it is equally feared and loved.
often i peer up at it and find it
utterly inscrutable in all its glory.
like a shiny new toaster.
A toaster is a thing that we use, to make our beard more cruncher, and more fun to eat, it’s no tony for Beard, but for other things like pop tarts, and many things that we eat everyday
The toaster is useful to the human population, without it we wouldn’t have toast, and without toast we wouldn’t be able to have a satisfactory and delicious breakfast. Toast is a great meal at breakfast since it goes with almost anything.
He listened, smiling, as she warbled on. Something about her back aching, and how it is always like that when it rains. The tedium of her conversation made him want to distract himself by sticking his hand into a toaster.
there once was a great toaster- one that everybody loved. she would melt honey on toast like Pooh Bear melted honey on his heart. It was on the eve of Joan’s bar mitzvah that the toaster began to question his existance. who am i? who are these people? the toaster was appalled to find a human hand reaching into the depths of his soul.
Start talking. She was livid. Eight frickin’ years of legal
shit, and all the stress and prison visits and the money. God the
money! And you lied? She unplugged the toaster and hurled it
squarely at his head.
walking into the kitchen i approached the worktop. the first thing that struck me was the upturned toaster on the floor, then the discarded cutlery. then at last the blood trail that lead out the back door.
What a fantastic kitchen appliance! They have horizontal ones and vertical ones and bagel ones and pizza ones and ones that have coffee pots attached to them and OH MY GOODNESS how could breakfast be more fun?!
I just bought a new toaster. One with the fat slots for bagels and thick slices of bread. Really like toast with lots of butter. Good for sopping up the last of the eggs and bacon. Yummy!!
Metal thing that heats up. Used mostly for toast. Inside metal rods heat up the inside and cook the toast.
I watched as his body shook but yet was almost still. I still don’t know why he thought he could stick a butter knife in the toaster but he did. Good thing my mum saw him and screamed or he may be gone.
A toaster toasts bread. Not toast. Sorry people. If your toaster toasts toast, you have a pretty sucky toaster. Because you would have had to already toast bread and then need to toast it again. Twice-toasted toast. A toaster can always toast bread. But many toasters need not toast toast. Think again, people toasting toast.
The toaster sat desolate, lonely, waiting to be used. Shimmering in the corner, the crumby corner, toasting, simmering in anticipation.
EsI love toast. Toast and garlic bread. I can eat them all day long. Then, I found out that baked goods and breads make you… fat. Exac! Why do I have to found out about it! Ruins my baked goods. I love baked goods… Why? Because we studied health in school and we have Canada Food Guide. Well, I know we have to eat everything in moderation.
But the toaster is there and we have bread and butter. Well, guess what happened? Exactly.
The toasted bread and butter tasted relly good. Yummy! Ding! And there goes another toast!
Now where did I put the butter?
a place to put bread, warm, cold when it just sits in the corner of the kitchen, forgotten, only until a morning that you need toast, and usually not turned off except by the user in a hurry yanking its fragile and beaten chord from the socket. so quick and efficient, yet so under appreciated.
The toaster was laying there, on the cold floor. Pieces scattered across everywhere like a dilapilated city. No more bread to toast, there’s nothing to celebrate except the end of the end. With some bread and something to toast, what else is there to live for?
A toaster? A toaster? I up my sales quota by twenty
percent, and I get rewarded with a fucking toaster? Should have
been expected, I guess. No way in Hell my boss would be interested
in giving me a raise or promotion. Nope, just stick with the
plastic name tag, the polo shirt, and the khakis, my dear – you’re
already being rewarded by your own efficiency and pride. Maybe I
can sell this thing. Or maybe I can start toasting bread for
grilled cheese and start a grilled cheese truck. That’ll at least
make me a little more money a week, ironically enough.
“Knee”
blood pours out,
like rain clouds
dropping off their load
it trickles down
effortlessly.
and your knees become stamps
that stain the pavement
The toaster sat on the counter, heating. I was so tired. I sat watching, watching, watching. Pop! The bronzed toast snapped me out of my reverie.
Hangover brunch.
toast
burn black
like my soul
buttery delciousness
thats crisp
and–
toasty
Three pieces of toast popped out of the toaster today.
Wait… three?
How an extra toast got into the machine, I have not the tiniest clue.
But clearly it was impossible.
My only options were these:
1. My eyes were playing with my brain
2. Someone had put another toast on one side
3. I wasn’t thinking when I was placing the slices of bread.
I had to cross out option. 3 because I WAS concentrating.
Dad was the only person in the house and he was still in the shower…
Or was he?
She sighed, the sound low and bereft of hope. The morning was long and she was still tired. She waited for the toaster to ding and sipped her coffee. The bereft feeling she kept bottled up inside visible for only a moment before it was interrupted by the ring of her finished toast.
The toaster was making toast. I sighed. I put the creamer into my mug of coffee, swirled the contents inside, and watched the circling pattern form and then diffuse outwards. I thought about you. Then the toaster popped, abruptly interrupting my thoughts.
Like the rest of the one bedroom, the kitchen was sparse, but homey. A microwave and an old toaster, both placed lovingly on the counter, sat just to the side of the equally old refrigerator; the tap, though discolored on the outside, upon further testing, released crystal clear water via the manually installed filter.
It wasn’t perfect, certainly, but it would do.
I turned to the landlord and offered a one-armed shrug. “Guess I’ll take it,”
As I child, a poor, dirty migrant little rat of a thing, I was given a toaster. It had rounded edges and some might go so far as to say that it once gleamed of silver. But that was for the near sighted, who could detect minerals amongst the rust. I was happy though. A toaster it was.
It is a messy way to go – a toaster in a bathtub. And if it hadn’t been for the poison I’d slipped him earlier, I imagine it would have really, really hurt…
I had a brand new 4 slice black toaster that I absolutely loved. It went brilliantly with my black and white kitchen.
My toaster flung bread at me and then fire erupted from its metal lips and it screamed. It screamed so loud my ears bled. It also didnt help that I had toast crumbs on my body. Poor me my mother walked right in and said, “Son are you doing drugs this time?”
Toaster? I’m full of anticipation for a word to express my
feelings right now and you give me fucking toaster? I was so
inspired and so fucking ready because it’s been awhile since I’ve
written and I get fucking toaster. Fuck you, toaster’s
suck.
It’s hidden away. I haven’t had toast for such a long time. Too long. I can barely remember what butter melted on warm bread tastes like.
The Toaster is
winding up through burnt terrain
a carpet of fire lay in its wake
until only the red devil danced across the hillside
her alluring eyes drawing you in
whispering peace
darkened bread,
so dry.
SO DRY.
white milk.
mornings in suburbia are so frightening.
I run out to assert that the rest of the world is still
there and alive.
Breathing deeply.
ALIVE.
The toaster pinged up sending the toast flying upwards. The aroma filled the room as Bill slapped a large lump of butter on and began to spread vigorously
.
How many years’ worth of stale crumbs and dust has accumulated on the bottom of the open slots? I’ve had that toaster for a decade, never been too good at cleaning it. Even when I’m a cloud of dust, this appliance will be sitting somewhere.
It was the toaster that brought me back to that night. The same one that killed him 3 years ago. I couldn’t get rid of it. It was the killer, the only thing I had left of him. The flashback, the way his body just limped there, the grey steel of the toaster reflecting in the light of the bathtub.
Today the toaster blew up just as I was about to get my toast out. I was already in a flap because I was running late and I thought I was going to miss my train. The toaster was the last straw. I walked out the door and kept on walking down the dusty, shingled road to nowhere.
I question the reality that I live in
with a broken glass bottle on the floor
and some burnt toast in the toaster.
What brought me to this point?
Why can’t I move on?
I’m so stuck in the feeling of insecurity
that I forget to live my life in the moment.
But I need a reimagining, not a makeover.
browned bread, my fucking roommate took forever getting the
toaster from her boyfriend’s house, i can’t believe that she and
laura are so dependent on boys? because why. why do they value the
male opinion so much. what happened in their childhoods to make
them so weak and vulnerable that