It is boiling hot in New Delhi these days. People do not go out in the day time because the heat is a bitch. The water boils on its own, there is no need to keep it on the stove.
you destroyed me. and not once did you stop to think about how i would feel with the two of your lengthy bodies entwined throughout eachother. i questionned what i had done to make you runaway so fast. it’s gotten to a point now where i don’t care what happens to you,and i thought this was love.
The temperature was BOILING. I couldn’t believe how hot it was! One day it’s freezing cold the next it feels like we are on the equator! I think I need to move. Somewhere where it isn’t so… temperature drastic change-y. A place that is perfect for someone like me… Maybe Hawaii.
boiling water, you can’t watch the pot or it won’t boil. also temperature can feel boiling but i suppose that’s a classic case of exaggeration, because if you were actually boiling that would be bad news. boiling also is the action verb to boil, like a boil that you have on your skin. boiling looks like the purple lines at the bottom getting darker. it’s like a gun that’s gonna go off. it’s waiting.
When your head is boiling, you’re mad at someone. When you boil, your brain shuts down and you start saying things you don’t mean to say. So you must freeze yourself before you boil or else… You’ll be in TROUBLE!
there’s something always boiling under the surface; hidden beneath just far enough away where you can’t see it- but so you can feel it. so you can know it’s watching you and heating up everytime you come near. and everytime you touch. sun’s got nothing on you (nothing)
The pot was boiling with lava steaming off the sides. He was using the largest pot he could find to keep it all inside. There were burning noises throughout the house. The children thought they were next. Where did the birds go? Here comes the stew to the table.
Whenever I think of boiling I think of my mom’s accident from when she was little. She now always tells me to be insanely careful that it pushes me to the brink of insanity. I’m making noodles not going into the Jungles of Vietnam. Jeesh. Motherly instincts I guess?
The boiling lava poured from the top of the bottle. Ellen threw the glass across the room. She screamed at the top of her lungs for Earl to help. Running into the room, Earl found he had nothing in him but a whimper.
The boiling water burned her hand violently, make her jerk away from her kitchen stove. Grabbing a wash clothes to clean up the boiling water she had split all over the place, cursing under her breathe. She was so stressed out from losing her job, she didn’t know what came over her. She’ll just have to find a new job soon.
my blood is boiling with this maddness indside my soul
i love how it eats at me bubbling until it finally overflows in an eruption of passion
i cant wait until the next time we meet this boiling enferno will never die down
my soul radiates
The kettle was on the fire and water was boiling. The steam rising out of the spout was looking very nice. When poured over the ground coffee, the boiling water released a wonderful aroma and the coffee made the room smell beautiful.
boiling hot. that’s what she felt after reading that email that her cousin had promised not to send. “what a crazy bitch,” she thought, “why am i putting up with this shit?” and just like that – she was done. no more boiling.
To my boiling point. Just about. One of these days I will spill over, and then I have no idea what my life will look like. Or. I think of boiling water while I make rice at work. … my life is sad.
After all of this worry, I am not lost. The struggles I face fall away from me, when I have faith and look to God before I answer for myself. What I am boiling down to. “The core of me” is this… I exist because God allows me to. God allows me to breath every breath. He feeds me what nourishment I require. If God did not want me here, I would not exist. Why should I worry or have want if God is the one running “The Show”? However… the porch needs sweeping.
The frogs are boiling in the pot. Hehehehe. Boiling frogs! I like boiling things, especially little froggies. Maybe I will boil some toads later, or possibly a plot bunny. Although its not nice to boil bunnies! Perhaps I will stick to boiling frogs. Bwahahahahahaha! BOILED FROGS! YES! Into the pot they go, one, two, three, many more!
Oh, those poor boiled little froggies.. they will taste good with a side of golden roasted kittens! Yum yum! Delicious! Mmmm! Oh, so tasty!
Dear God. What horrors live in my head that make me write about boiling frogs and roasting kittens? I am afraid.
The boiling temperature of water is 100 degrees Celius. At this temperature the water can actually be either a liquid or a gas because of the amount of heat (or energy) that it requires to change liquid water into water vapor. Even though the temperature does not change, more heat is put in. This heat is used, simply put, to separate the molecules.
My heart was boiling, the love I had always felt for her was being destroyed by this one simple action. A kiss upon the cheek of her new man, as I stood and could only watch in horror and utter dismay. Alas, I suppose it is time to move on with my life as well.
the boiling don’t stop one its started. it has been told that the boiling started long ago and has maintained a constant state of motion since, only kept below the knowing searching eye by change in location and motive. i saw it once. but only for a fleeting second.
One day I was talking to my cat while I was boiling a pot of water. All I could think about was how good my pasta was going to taste, when all of a sudden, my cat meowed so loudly that I spun around. To my surprise my sleeve got caught on handle of the pot and it spilt all over my arm. It instantly turned as red as a chile, and felt as if I was going to disintegrate. It was a bad day.
The frogs are boiling in the pot. Hehehehe. Boiling frogs! I like boiling things, especially little froggies. Maybe I will boil some toads later, or possibly a plot bunny. Although its not nice to boil bunnies! Perhaps I will stick to boiling frogs. Bwahahahahahaha! BOILED FROGS! YES! Into the pot they go, one, two, three, many more!
As the water on the stovetop boiled, I pulled steaming chocolate chip cookies out from the oven. I know, food is no substitute for love, but the melting chocolate filled me with a warmth not quite as satisfying as a man’s touch, but acceptable nonetheless.
I’m reaching my boiling point. I don’t want to deal with the stress or the thoughts. I just want peace. Is it too much to ask for? Do I really have to wait so long for PEACE? I’m so tired of boiling over.
Like a frog, slow at first, dirty, covered in mud. We’re all dirty. Once we felt fit for a king, but we’re just a bunch of babbling idiots who look at the world so negatively and boring. Makes me think of suicide a lot. One day.
The water was boiling just like the ocean on a hot day in the summer. I felt so content listening to the kettle whistle telling me I am ready to relax and take everything off my mind. I slowly listen as the simmering stops when I move the kettle.
I like to boil my eggs in BOLING hot water.
I find it amusing to see the bubbles errupt from the hot water
I like bubbles
I like boiling baths.
because theres bubbles
I like to boil eggs
I should put a chicken a bath
so I can boil them eggs
hot. its like a game. ya know, you’re getting hotter or colder but when you get really close it turns into boiling. I live in colorado so our boiling temperature is different, higher i believe, then anywhere else, it makes it a little harder to make pasta. but salt tends to fix that problem and make it boil faster
it’s so hot it’s bubbling. it’s burning my hands until little white blisters appear. it’s producing steam that’s gathering on my face. i check the thermostat and cool down the place.
Boiling. That is what my rage feels like. It feels like my skin is boiling. My blood and my brain bubble and roil with it, warping my veins and my heart with the fiery hatred that you left in me.
The sun felt hot against her skin. The sweat, seemingly boiling and evaporating into thin air. The wind, warm like a winter heater. The concrete, presenting illusions from distances. This was her home. The desert. And all she wanted, all she really wanted, was to get away from it.
it starts in your mind, then gets under your skin. You can’t stop thinking about it and it certainly can drive you mad. You look at the clock and hear your heartbeat in your head. Then it hits you. You remember that it didn’t just happen, it happened for a reason.
Dang thats pretty hot. I burned my hand in some boiling water, I knew I should have gotten the spoon to check the noodles to see if they were done. But I always have been impulsive. Thats how I ended up with a pet monkey.
The water was boiling by the time i lowered the temperature in the stove. I served the tea in silence and sat on the couch. I resumed to aimlessly look out the window to the ruthless city below.
At first it seemed achievable.
Hundreds of attempts. Thousands of delicate touches and precise placements.
Hundreds of failures.
One last try. Anxiety and concentration get the better of me. I sigh. The pyramid collapses. My frustration goes past boiling point. I lose it.
I will never try to build a pyramid out of playing cards again.
I Look at the water boiling in front of me, reflecting the turmoil in my head as I think of my life and this world we live in.
It is boiling hot in New Delhi these days. People do not go out in the day time because the heat is a bitch. The water boils on its own, there is no need to keep it on the stove.
you destroyed me. and not once did you stop to think about how i would feel with the two of your lengthy bodies entwined throughout eachother. i questionned what i had done to make you runaway so fast. it’s gotten to a point now where i don’t care what happens to you,and i thought this was love.
The temperature was BOILING. I couldn’t believe how hot it was! One day it’s freezing cold the next it feels like we are on the equator! I think I need to move. Somewhere where it isn’t so… temperature drastic change-y. A place that is perfect for someone like me… Maybe Hawaii.
boiling water, you can’t watch the pot or it won’t boil. also temperature can feel boiling but i suppose that’s a classic case of exaggeration, because if you were actually boiling that would be bad news. boiling also is the action verb to boil, like a boil that you have on your skin. boiling looks like the purple lines at the bottom getting darker. it’s like a gun that’s gonna go off. it’s waiting.
When your head is boiling, you’re mad at someone. When you boil, your brain shuts down and you start saying things you don’t mean to say. So you must freeze yourself before you boil or else… You’ll be in TROUBLE!
there’s something always boiling under the surface; hidden beneath just far enough away where you can’t see it- but so you can feel it. so you can know it’s watching you and heating up everytime you come near. and everytime you touch. sun’s got nothing on you (nothing)
The pot was boiling with lava steaming off the sides. He was using the largest pot he could find to keep it all inside. There were burning noises throughout the house. The children thought they were next. Where did the birds go? Here comes the stew to the table.
Whenever I think of boiling I think of my mom’s accident from when she was little. She now always tells me to be insanely careful that it pushes me to the brink of insanity. I’m making noodles not going into the Jungles of Vietnam. Jeesh. Motherly instincts I guess?
Boiling hot hot water. Hoooot on your skin. Buuurn. Pour the coooooool on it for relief from the hoooot. Ouch. Owie ouch. FUCK. Boiling hurts, man.
The boiling lava poured from the top of the bottle. Ellen threw the glass across the room. She screamed at the top of her lungs for Earl to help. Running into the room, Earl found he had nothing in him but a whimper.
The boiling water burned her hand violently, make her jerk away from her kitchen stove. Grabbing a wash clothes to clean up the boiling water she had split all over the place, cursing under her breathe. She was so stressed out from losing her job, she didn’t know what came over her. She’ll just have to find a new job soon.
my blood is boiling with this maddness indside my soul
i love how it eats at me bubbling until it finally overflows in an eruption of passion
i cant wait until the next time we meet this boiling enferno will never die down
my soul radiates
The kettle was on the fire and water was boiling. The steam rising out of the spout was looking very nice. When poured over the ground coffee, the boiling water released a wonderful aroma and the coffee made the room smell beautiful.
boiling hot. that’s what she felt after reading that email that her cousin had promised not to send. “what a crazy bitch,” she thought, “why am i putting up with this shit?” and just like that – she was done. no more boiling.
To my boiling point. Just about. One of these days I will spill over, and then I have no idea what my life will look like. Or. I think of boiling water while I make rice at work. … my life is sad.
After all of this worry, I am not lost. The struggles I face fall away from me, when I have faith and look to God before I answer for myself. What I am boiling down to. “The core of me” is this… I exist because God allows me to. God allows me to breath every breath. He feeds me what nourishment I require. If God did not want me here, I would not exist. Why should I worry or have want if God is the one running “The Show”? However… the porch needs sweeping.
The frogs are boiling in the pot. Hehehehe. Boiling frogs! I like boiling things, especially little froggies. Maybe I will boil some toads later, or possibly a plot bunny. Although its not nice to boil bunnies! Perhaps I will stick to boiling frogs. Bwahahahahahaha! BOILED FROGS! YES! Into the pot they go, one, two, three, many more!
Oh, those poor boiled little froggies.. they will taste good with a side of golden roasted kittens! Yum yum! Delicious! Mmmm! Oh, so tasty!
Dear God. What horrors live in my head that make me write about boiling frogs and roasting kittens? I am afraid.
The boiling temperature of water is 100 degrees Celius. At this temperature the water can actually be either a liquid or a gas because of the amount of heat (or energy) that it requires to change liquid water into water vapor. Even though the temperature does not change, more heat is put in. This heat is used, simply put, to separate the molecules.
egg . hard-boiled egg ? ! ? coufusion !!!! yes ? no ? ….. dead .
My heart was boiling, the love I had always felt for her was being destroyed by this one simple action. A kiss upon the cheek of her new man, as I stood and could only watch in horror and utter dismay. Alas, I suppose it is time to move on with my life as well.
the boiling don’t stop one its started. it has been told that the boiling started long ago and has maintained a constant state of motion since, only kept below the knowing searching eye by change in location and motive. i saw it once. but only for a fleeting second.
One day I was talking to my cat while I was boiling a pot of water. All I could think about was how good my pasta was going to taste, when all of a sudden, my cat meowed so loudly that I spun around. To my surprise my sleeve got caught on handle of the pot and it spilt all over my arm. It instantly turned as red as a chile, and felt as if I was going to disintegrate. It was a bad day.
The frogs are boiling in the pot. Hehehehe. Boiling frogs! I like boiling things, especially little froggies. Maybe I will boil some toads later, or possibly a plot bunny. Although its not nice to boil bunnies! Perhaps I will stick to boiling frogs. Bwahahahahahaha! BOILED FROGS! YES! Into the pot they go, one, two, three, many more!
As the water on the stovetop boiled, I pulled steaming chocolate chip cookies out from the oven. I know, food is no substitute for love, but the melting chocolate filled me with a warmth not quite as satisfying as a man’s touch, but acceptable nonetheless.
boil it boil it boilit boil it!!!!! Hey hey hey
I’m reaching my boiling point. I don’t want to deal with the stress or the thoughts. I just want peace. Is it too much to ask for? Do I really have to wait so long for PEACE? I’m so tired of boiling over.
Like a frog, slow at first, dirty, covered in mud. We’re all dirty. Once we felt fit for a king, but we’re just a bunch of babbling idiots who look at the world so negatively and boring. Makes me think of suicide a lot. One day.
The water was boiling just like the ocean on a hot day in the summer. I felt so content listening to the kettle whistle telling me I am ready to relax and take everything off my mind. I slowly listen as the simmering stops when I move the kettle.
I like to boil my eggs in BOLING hot water.
I find it amusing to see the bubbles errupt from the hot water
I like bubbles
I like boiling baths.
because theres bubbles
I like to boil eggs
I should put a chicken a bath
so I can boil them eggs
hot. its like a game. ya know, you’re getting hotter or colder but when you get really close it turns into boiling. I live in colorado so our boiling temperature is different, higher i believe, then anywhere else, it makes it a little harder to make pasta. but salt tends to fix that problem and make it boil faster
ball
best
buy
ball
enough
love
turkey
wedding
invitations
recipe
food
meals
potatoes
mushroom
cheese
bread
breath
beat
heart
hearth
wee
it’s so hot it’s bubbling. it’s burning my hands until little white blisters appear. it’s producing steam that’s gathering on my face. i check the thermostat and cool down the place.
Boiling. That is what my rage feels like. It feels like my skin is boiling. My blood and my brain bubble and roil with it, warping my veins and my heart with the fiery hatred that you left in me.
The sun felt hot against her skin. The sweat, seemingly boiling and evaporating into thin air. The wind, warm like a winter heater. The concrete, presenting illusions from distances. This was her home. The desert. And all she wanted, all she really wanted, was to get away from it.
it starts in your mind, then gets under your skin. You can’t stop thinking about it and it certainly can drive you mad. You look at the clock and hear your heartbeat in your head. Then it hits you. You remember that it didn’t just happen, it happened for a reason.
Dang thats pretty hot. I burned my hand in some boiling water, I knew I should have gotten the spoon to check the noodles to see if they were done. But I always have been impulsive. Thats how I ended up with a pet monkey.
The water was boiling by the time i lowered the temperature in the stove. I served the tea in silence and sat on the couch. I resumed to aimlessly look out the window to the ruthless city below.
Boiling water? Hot, bubbling, steaming boiling water. Splashing, cooking.. Don’t get too close! Those burns absolutely kill. Shucks.