on top of the barrel? right now? must be uncomfortable to um…you know, on top of a barrel O.O but hey, whatever they want for the video.
i get on top, and plank. HA! hilarious.
reminds me of the 1700’s when they use to put beer inside of it and guys use to sit on top of them and smoke and there is a lot of pictures like that, with people on top of them. that and donkey kong.
There was a barrel whose name was Steve. He wasn’t a sentient barrel, but his owner was lonely enough to give him a name. She drew eyes on Steve and gave him a luxurious moustache. Steve’s owner, Susan, loved him so much that she decided to live in him. Unfortunately, she didn’t drill air holes in her new barrel home, so she quickly died.
It dropped from out of the sky like a meteor. I was so shaken I couldn’t tell what it was at first but once I had regained my senses I had the chance to examine it. It was a barrel
The barrel is brown. It can hold monkey, it has lines and is oval shaped. You can hide inside of it or you could throw it like in video games. One plus shake. Donkey Kong. Mario? Monkeys in a barrel.
double barrel shot gun boom, boom, rang, a peal, fish sitting in the bottom waiting for the waiter to wait on them still, always still. no holds bar, got to get the out of whack back on track. scraping but never breaking, surface forsaking core, depths shaking unshaken shores looking for the cure. panacea come one come all just in time for the fall.
Barrel. Like a barrel of monkeys. That’s the first thought that pops into my head anyhow. More fun than a barrel of monkeys. Like Donkey Kong. That asshole is always throwing barrels. What’s in the barrels? Probably gunpowder. I don’t remember. I sucked at that game.
Her horse stood beside her, a barrel-chested bay that had hooves the size of dinner plates. He snuffled at her hand, looking with lips and huge nostrils for any residue of the sugar cubes she had held moments ago. “Hush,” she said, pushing the horse away affectionately. “You’ve had enough for the day, silly.”
I never am able to anticipate the barrel roll my stomach does when you smile at me. My axis is rocked, and the g-force is enough to throw me across country. But damn, what a good kind of pain that is.
Whiskey goes in it. I like whiskey. Cheap whiskey. Evan Williams sour mash.
Barrels are also shown in the movies full of water and they tend to dip drunk people in it.
Or for bobbing for apples.
The barrel was fat and round lie santas belly nobody knew what was inside but we were about to find out. It was rusted closed at the top and the crow bar bent under the strain
I met you, and suddenly, I became that stupid expression.
“Fish in a barrel.” Have you heard of it?
That’s what I was when I saw you.
You had me right where you wanted me, and I had no hope.
And when you shot the barrel, I was left bursting out of that stupid round brown thing, flopping around on the floor, not knowing what to do.
trapped in a barrel, it rocks back and forth. water rushes around me so close, it feels like i’m breathing it, the euphoric nausea. it is not the hurried stream i inhale, but an intimate blanket of perspiration, draping skin and lungs
Brown round oval but not quite, with divets on the side that are golden ringed and make quite the sectioning off of layers. Barrel down the hill with laughs and fun and splinters. but the pain doesn’t register
It’s round, and it’s brown. Heard only when describing the metaphor “fish in a barrel”
When I met you, that’s what I became: a fish in a barrel.
You had me right where you wanted me, and I had nowhere to go.
Then you shot that barrel, and there I came bursting out, flip flopping all over the floor.
I’m the fish, and you are the barrel. I had no hope.
The barrel rolled down the hill with the little boy in it. It seemed like an adventure at first, but he was scared. He could hear his little sister screaming his name between the bumps of the barrel against the rocks.
I chased a barrel down the stream, only to realize I couldn’t go any farther. The barrel is truly important to me but what could I do. I had to say goodbye. Now I’m a little lonly. That barrel had my true friend in it, Mr. Racoon. Oh! Well. I guess I’ll have to find another barrel. Papa has plenty of them. And what about my friend. Well they come and they go. He’ll be alright. He can get out of almost anything.
I have seen her stand this way, small and tremulous. Her eyes are large and blank, and it takes me a moment to place where her mind may be. She is back in that alley, staggeringly drunk and staring down the barrel of a gun.
Barrel roll out of the car and onto the pavement, everything seemed to slow down as I ran through the thick brush. My jacket snagged on a limb, but I kept running. What did I do to make these people snap and how could I ever stay hidden with such limited resources? In the dark I tripped over a log, they would surely catch me and take me back. I should just give up… I should just hand my iPhone over and accept being grounded.
there are many things about a barrel. like monkeys in a barrel. boy was that a fun game. you have one monkey and you try to link more monkeys that are in the barrel. but one thing i especially think about is the road to el dorado. the two men hide in barrels of water and accidently board the ship of Cortez.
wooden bucket. with fish and can shoot it with a gun. cowboy shows. dripping rain water goes in from the roof and pipes. can hide in it. can drown in it. can store wine. can store items. can hide things.
He snuck inside, feeling around the dark room without even the smallest sliver of light. His shin found his treasure for him, and he reached around wildly for the top. He slipped broken fingernails into the lid and pulled. The wet slosh of water was music to his ears. He leaned forward, dunking his head below the surface and taking deep swallows. It was like drinking gold to his parched throat.
The barrel has some nice fermented wine in it. It is the color blood salsa red and has been aged for 25 years. It pulls significant flavor profiles from the barrel resulting in a nutty, oaky, and wood taste.
I have this big stupid barrel, okay well it’s not stupid
I’m wearing, but not because I’m fat and nothing else fits it’s because there’s a sadie hawkins dance
and I’m afraid to ask the cute boy
Maybe I’ll put some flowers in my hair
I don’t look to bad in this barrel
It’s not like the bottle where I keep my emotions
I was looking outside and what do my eyes fall upon? The most magnificent barrel known to man. I was thinking to myself “I just have to have that barrel”. So I run down stairs and go outside only to be hit by a car.
I took the barrel of corn meal to the store to sell for $50 and sold every grain of it. It was a super success. What an awesome adventure. Who knew I had such business saavy
The barrel was full of gunpowder. It stood in the corner, ominously. It held so much potential. It could destroy, for good or for evil. Or it could just stand there untouched, building up frightening amounts of potential energy. It scared me. What was inside.
It is deep and made of wood. You can make fermented beverages in it…small children find them empty and roll down the hill. Some sit on them to take photographs in the summer sun sets. They are for more than their original purpose. Repurposing…what life is all about, but somehow finding our way back to our original design. I wonder if the wood is bruised or distressed, sometimes like we are. We are used and positioned and filled with nonsense and then poured out again and in the end…we are still made for what we were made for. It is just if we can find our way back to the beginning with that wisdom at hand…
The cats lay in the barrel, whispering for someone to come rescue them. They stared at the world with as big as marbles under a magnifying glass, their noses wet with innocence and they purrs soft as a new view of the world. There must have ten of them, all stacked on top of each other, peering up into the eyes of the sky, so blue and endless.
I love barrels. You can put some much stuff into barrels. Wine, beer, juices, sludge, you name it, they contain it ;) What else about barrels? Barrels can roll down hills!!! Little people can also fit inside of them as well! :D
i found a barrel of beer today. i made it a mission to drink and entire barrel within 3 hours. i steadily drank for one hour and got competely wasted and ended up in bed with an irish guy. it was fun. i like beer. im stoned
We held hands over the wooden crate. I couldn’t look at him and refused to raise his eyes to mine. But we both knew and we both were aware of each others eyes flitting away to any corner of the room that we could settle on.
The sky was dark. I could hardly see my house, which is five feet away from me and I could hardly see my wife, who was standing in front of the house door. I rolled my eyes, breathing in the mixture of coldness and sand, breathing in the odor of life and these forgotten memories from way early in the past and closed my eyes. I do not need to see. I do not need to live the sadness of being apart from my love once again.
Rolling, rolling, rolling down a hill
full of water, don’t let it spill
Full of beer, a keg of wine
Bang, bang, bang,
bang, goes the gun.
Don’t drink and drive.
When she gathered up all of her thoughts to leave, she suddenly realized that her heart was a lot emptier than when she had first arrived. She gasped, looking around frantically as if she thought she would find the missing contents had simply fallen out of her pocket onto the floor or the couch beside her. She would come to know instead that she had been lugging around an empty barrel of a heart for many years now; it had just taken her this long to take notice.
on top of the barrel? right now? must be uncomfortable to um…you know, on top of a barrel O.O but hey, whatever they want for the video.
i get on top, and plank. HA! hilarious.
reminds me of the 1700’s when they use to put beer inside of it and guys use to sit on top of them and smoke and there is a lot of pictures like that, with people on top of them. that and donkey kong.
There was a barrel whose name was Steve. He wasn’t a sentient barrel, but his owner was lonely enough to give him a name. She drew eyes on Steve and gave him a luxurious moustache. Steve’s owner, Susan, loved him so much that she decided to live in him. Unfortunately, she didn’t drill air holes in her new barrel home, so she quickly died.
It dropped from out of the sky like a meteor. I was so shaken I couldn’t tell what it was at first but once I had regained my senses I had the chance to examine it. It was a barrel
The barrel is brown. It can hold monkey, it has lines and is oval shaped. You can hide inside of it or you could throw it like in video games. One plus shake. Donkey Kong. Mario? Monkeys in a barrel.
It’s nothing but a barrel – just a single old oak barrel with nothing noteworthy inside.
It was also the very item that decided the life or death of a million people.
double barrel shot gun boom, boom, rang, a peal, fish sitting in the bottom waiting for the waiter to wait on them still, always still. no holds bar, got to get the out of whack back on track. scraping but never breaking, surface forsaking core, depths shaking unshaken shores looking for the cure. panacea come one come all just in time for the fall.
circular, mysterious, where is it going to? islands, pirates, middle east, crystal sea, treasure, hidden, what’s inside? memories, oak, wine, vineyards, age, fairytale, home, towering, piles
Barrel. Like a barrel of monkeys. That’s the first thought that pops into my head anyhow. More fun than a barrel of monkeys. Like Donkey Kong. That asshole is always throwing barrels. What’s in the barrels? Probably gunpowder. I don’t remember. I sucked at that game.
Her horse stood beside her, a barrel-chested bay that had hooves the size of dinner plates. He snuffled at her hand, looking with lips and huge nostrils for any residue of the sugar cubes she had held moments ago. “Hush,” she said, pushing the horse away affectionately. “You’ve had enough for the day, silly.”
I never am able to anticipate the barrel roll my stomach does when you smile at me. My axis is rocked, and the g-force is enough to throw me across country. But damn, what a good kind of pain that is.
Whiskey goes in it. I like whiskey. Cheap whiskey. Evan Williams sour mash.
Barrels are also shown in the movies full of water and they tend to dip drunk people in it.
Or for bobbing for apples.
The barrel was fat and round lie santas belly nobody knew what was inside but we were about to find out. It was rusted closed at the top and the crow bar bent under the strain
I met you, and suddenly, I became that stupid expression.
“Fish in a barrel.” Have you heard of it?
That’s what I was when I saw you.
You had me right where you wanted me, and I had no hope.
And when you shot the barrel, I was left bursting out of that stupid round brown thing, flopping around on the floor, not knowing what to do.
trapped in a barrel, it rocks back and forth. water rushes around me so close, it feels like i’m breathing it, the euphoric nausea. it is not the hurried stream i inhale, but an intimate blanket of perspiration, draping skin and lungs
Brown round oval but not quite, with divets on the side that are golden ringed and make quite the sectioning off of layers. Barrel down the hill with laughs and fun and splinters. but the pain doesn’t register
It’s round, and it’s brown. Heard only when describing the metaphor “fish in a barrel”
When I met you, that’s what I became: a fish in a barrel.
You had me right where you wanted me, and I had nowhere to go.
Then you shot that barrel, and there I came bursting out, flip flopping all over the floor.
I’m the fish, and you are the barrel. I had no hope.
The barrel rolled down the hill with the little boy in it. It seemed like an adventure at first, but he was scared. He could hear his little sister screaming his name between the bumps of the barrel against the rocks.
“Itt’s a barrel,” Tuney eyed the wooden object with ill-disguised curiosity.
“I can see that, dummy.” Rosetta rolled her eyes. “What are we supposed to do with it? How is that to supposed to help save us from the Raiders?”
“Maybe we hide in it?”
“Are you insane? Why would anyone hide in a barrel?!”
“Precisesly.” The other girl said, grimly. “Shall we go, my princess?”
“…oh shut up. If I get sick from bobbing down the river in this-”
“–you will kindly hold your ‘sick’ until we are on land.” Tuney said, sweetly. “Right?”
“I hate you.”
“The feeling is entirely mutual, princess.”
I chased a barrel down the stream, only to realize I couldn’t go any farther. The barrel is truly important to me but what could I do. I had to say goodbye. Now I’m a little lonly. That barrel had my true friend in it, Mr. Racoon. Oh! Well. I guess I’ll have to find another barrel. Papa has plenty of them. And what about my friend. Well they come and they go. He’ll be alright. He can get out of almost anything.
I have seen her stand this way, small and tremulous. Her eyes are large and blank, and it takes me a moment to place where her mind may be. She is back in that alley, staggeringly drunk and staring down the barrel of a gun.
Barrel roll out of the car and onto the pavement, everything seemed to slow down as I ran through the thick brush. My jacket snagged on a limb, but I kept running. What did I do to make these people snap and how could I ever stay hidden with such limited resources? In the dark I tripped over a log, they would surely catch me and take me back. I should just give up… I should just hand my iPhone over and accept being grounded.
there are many things about a barrel. like monkeys in a barrel. boy was that a fun game. you have one monkey and you try to link more monkeys that are in the barrel. but one thing i especially think about is the road to el dorado. the two men hide in barrels of water and accidently board the ship of Cortez.
wooden bucket. with fish and can shoot it with a gun. cowboy shows. dripping rain water goes in from the roof and pipes. can hide in it. can drown in it. can store wine. can store items. can hide things.
He snuck inside, feeling around the dark room without even the smallest sliver of light. His shin found his treasure for him, and he reached around wildly for the top. He slipped broken fingernails into the lid and pulled. The wet slosh of water was music to his ears. He leaned forward, dunking his head below the surface and taking deep swallows. It was like drinking gold to his parched throat.
The barrel has some nice fermented wine in it. It is the color blood salsa red and has been aged for 25 years. It pulls significant flavor profiles from the barrel resulting in a nutty, oaky, and wood taste.
I have this big stupid barrel, okay well it’s not stupid
I’m wearing, but not because I’m fat and nothing else fits it’s because there’s a sadie hawkins dance
and I’m afraid to ask the cute boy
Maybe I’ll put some flowers in my hair
I don’t look to bad in this barrel
It’s not like the bottle where I keep my emotions
I was looking outside and what do my eyes fall upon? The most magnificent barrel known to man. I was thinking to myself “I just have to have that barrel”. So I run down stairs and go outside only to be hit by a car.
I took the barrel of corn meal to the store to sell for $50 and sold every grain of it. It was a super success. What an awesome adventure. Who knew I had such business saavy
The barrel was full of gunpowder. It stood in the corner, ominously. It held so much potential. It could destroy, for good or for evil. Or it could just stand there untouched, building up frightening amounts of potential energy. It scared me. What was inside.
It is deep and made of wood. You can make fermented beverages in it…small children find them empty and roll down the hill. Some sit on them to take photographs in the summer sun sets. They are for more than their original purpose. Repurposing…what life is all about, but somehow finding our way back to our original design. I wonder if the wood is bruised or distressed, sometimes like we are. We are used and positioned and filled with nonsense and then poured out again and in the end…we are still made for what we were made for. It is just if we can find our way back to the beginning with that wisdom at hand…
The cats lay in the barrel, whispering for someone to come rescue them. They stared at the world with as big as marbles under a magnifying glass, their noses wet with innocence and they purrs soft as a new view of the world. There must have ten of them, all stacked on top of each other, peering up into the eyes of the sky, so blue and endless.
I love barrels. You can put some much stuff into barrels. Wine, beer, juices, sludge, you name it, they contain it ;) What else about barrels? Barrels can roll down hills!!! Little people can also fit inside of them as well! :D
Ummmmmmmmmm, barrels, whats not to love?
The barrel
the keg
the bottle
the shot
all means to an end
to forget whats forgot
i found a barrel of beer today. i made it a mission to drink and entire barrel within 3 hours. i steadily drank for one hour and got competely wasted and ended up in bed with an irish guy. it was fun. i like beer. im stoned
We held hands over the wooden crate. I couldn’t look at him and refused to raise his eyes to mine. But we both knew and we both were aware of each others eyes flitting away to any corner of the room that we could settle on.
The sky was dark. I could hardly see my house, which is five feet away from me and I could hardly see my wife, who was standing in front of the house door. I rolled my eyes, breathing in the mixture of coldness and sand, breathing in the odor of life and these forgotten memories from way early in the past and closed my eyes. I do not need to see. I do not need to live the sadness of being apart from my love once again.
wooden. usually holds a liquid like beer or something. used to go over niagra falls if you’re stupid
Rolling, rolling, rolling down a hill
full of water, don’t let it spill
Full of beer, a keg of wine
Bang, bang, bang,
bang, goes the gun.
Don’t drink and drive.
When she gathered up all of her thoughts to leave, she suddenly realized that her heart was a lot emptier than when she had first arrived. She gasped, looking around frantically as if she thought she would find the missing contents had simply fallen out of her pocket onto the floor or the couch beside her. She would come to know instead that she had been lugging around an empty barrel of a heart for many years now; it had just taken her this long to take notice.