HE BOXED IN HIS BOXERS WHILE BOXING BOXES FOR BOX DAY. Box the fox was boxxing boxes because he boxed while boxing. His sox, were put in the box, because foxes really liked boxes. So, when you find a box, put your socks inside, so that you can catch Fox’s box socks.
has many different meanings….well…2… it can refer to two people punching the shit out of eachother or the other lesser exciting/violent way in which you put things in boxes…the otherone is less strenious and your less likley to bleed…so i’d go for the latter…no one wants a day filled with punching and sweat….safer just to stay at home and put some lovley things in boxes…
It wasn’t hard at first, swinging your arms into another person’s jaw. That is, until they hit you back then it was hard. When your teeth fall out, it’s hard. When blood it gushing from you face in clots, it’s hard.
Boxing has a few different meanings.
It can be wresling which is a fighting sport
where strong people face off
one on one
and it can also mean to package something
to make it ready for shipping or storing
MA was a boxer. He helped in the fight for civil rights. Normally I think that boxing is a very violent sport, so I don’t watch it, but I DO respect it. Also, I secretly wish that I could do it as well. It is a GREAT workout!
He pushed into me, his hands hard and rough against my stomach. I cried out, cowering behind my own thin arms, and shaking. He screamed, bouncing against me and pushing me down. This harsh form of boxing, a slight dance that we do. He is rough and mean and scary. I am small and scared.
Leaving seemed so fruitless. I couldn’t start new somewhere else. Not completely new. All my old baggage would come with me – just like last time. I don’t know why I try this, again and again. I just keep packing. My boxes are always too full to carry easily.
my is good, better than you think. But it’s what scares you – and it’s not that I disagree that other things are better, it’s just that your fear of boxing says more about you than the thing in itself. Boxers are imperfect, but better than the scared.
not underwear but punching people in funky shorts. boxer-gloves look like mikey mouse hands. actually it’s funny how people considerate boxerurs hot, while they’re dressed like idiots
boxing. its a violent sport. itf it can be called a sport at all. two men beating on each other as hard as they can to see who can knock the other out first. primitive.
Two guys are standing in a ring and one of them punches the other with a huge glove. The other guy is like DUDE WTF and the first guy is like WHAT WE’RE BOXING and the second guy is like WHAT I THOUGHT WE WERE SIPPING SOME TEA and the other guy is like OH RIGHT so they take off the gloves and sit down to a nice tea party and then Johnny Depp shows up and is like DOWN WITH THE BLOODY RED QUEEN and the other two boxers are like WTF and Johnny starts reciting the Jabberwocky and they’re like WTF I DONT EVEN
boxing is something I actually really car about. but not the kind of boxing involving beating each other. rather, boxing as in boxing day. I love the concept of boxing dad. taking your old stuff and giving it away to simplify life. perfect.
Bang bang bang! Kangaroos and kicks in the head. Sweet nectar honey dripping from the spoon and the last thing i remember was the thud and the dust from the floorboards. Wretch. Stained eyes blinking slowly to a stop.
Boxing. The sport that held our hearts with Rocky. We loved Russel Crowe in Cinderella Man, as well. What is it of our carnal instinct to fight that attracts us as humans to this brutal sport of destruction? What is it that makes us want to be just like boxers? Even gentle people lacking hostility wish for the same glory as boxers some days.
Boxing, well I would surely love to punch someone straight in the face at the moment. Nick has yet to text me today. He always seems to be the calming factor in my day. Looks like that idea has failed. Perhaps I’ll just be the typical temperamental teenager today delivering empty threats and verbally assaulting any one who dares question me.
Sally loved boxing. She was all for it when I said I wanted to be a boxer. Boxing became my life. Eventually Sally left me for a stockbroker and I ended up with a messed up face, jaw wired shut for a year. But hey, anything for a girl, right?
A big red mitt to the face. Stinging, red, blood. Bruises and black eyes. Busted lips and missing teeth. Muscles ripping. Shirts ripping. Ringing ears and ringing bells.
black men are fighting with each other iwth red gloves. Like that time a guy bit another boxers ear off… ouch! the rink has a loud bell and that is my dream job, to ring that darn bell. ding ding
once i went on a school trip with …. well, the school. we went to france and at about 10 we were at the eiffel tower. we had to wait in a massive lineup. we all had on black hoodies (me and friends) and pretended to be boxers. the end :)
punching … hitting … killing… mutilating … i wish to see you dead as i keep boxing with your bloody face, blood shattering all over the place, painting the walls in dark red … then you stop breathing … and finally … disappear
Hard core guys pounding eachothers faces. Showing their manlyness and showing their strength. Red gloves, mouth gaurds, the smell of sweat. Towls and water bottles, cheering.
I have nothing to say about boxing. I’ve never watched, never cared for it. It doesn’t interest me in the bit. I’ve never even watched any of the Rocky movies.
boxing seems like a pretty cool sport if you want to let out frustrations. i mean, all you do is hit someone, preferably in the facial area and hopefully knock them out. they can’t take it personally though, as you’re most likely thinking about someone you really dislike when you hit them, and not the person themselves. which seems pretty selfish actually if you ask me.
Boxing is a day celebrated in Canada right after Christmas. I could do with a boxing day to get rid of my abundance of stuff. So much stuff – time to simplify. Like writing for 60 seconds on a random word – a work out for th brain.
I want to learn how to box but i’m afraid of hurting someone. so maybe i shouldn’t. it could release some inner warrior in me and then i will be huring everyone. i dont thnik i would like that too mcuh.
muhammad ali took the boxing world by storm, but theres a new wind blowing. a kid by the name of jack trident started boxing in alley ways and made his way to the top. killed ten people in the eight years boxing. but hes now the champ.
bloody messsy violent ballet. punching bruises ouch! toughest women alive…craziest, too. why would you want to hurt another human being soooo much? Are we that angry, and
She sat at the edge of her seat, absolutely enthralled in the fight. She had never been to a boxing match before; in fact had always expressed her abhorrence for what she referred to as a totally brutual sport. There was something about the gleaming oiled up bodies of the two men, up against each other in an animalistic manner that excited her.
i took my boxer dog to the dentist because of his horrible breath. my mother didnt give a shit that i was broker than broke or that I couldnt afford to do my laundry much less take baby to the pet dentist. but she needed it. i dont regret it. i just wish i had thought to buy toilet paper.
is a terrible sport, it’s violent and horrific. People get joy in seeing someone else beat the living crap out of someone with their fists. The gloves don’t make it more humane. It’s sick
The day after Christmas, when all the excitement dies away, when all the Christmas carols CDs are tucked away for another year, when all the mistletoe is thrown out we fold up the boxes and go about our daily lives. Boxing day.
HE BOXED IN HIS BOXERS WHILE BOXING BOXES FOR BOX DAY. Box the fox was boxxing boxes because he boxed while boxing. His sox, were put in the box, because foxes really liked boxes. So, when you find a box, put your socks inside, so that you can catch Fox’s box socks.
has many different meanings….well…2… it can refer to two people punching the shit out of eachother or the other lesser exciting/violent way in which you put things in boxes…the otherone is less strenious and your less likley to bleed…so i’d go for the latter…no one wants a day filled with punching and sweat….safer just to stay at home and put some lovley things in boxes…
Boxing is a big fight. Gloves and sweat and heat. Left hook. Right jab. Bob and weave and weave again. Keep it moving. Keep it moving.
boxing day, a boxing match, boom boom boom, broken nose, broken face, broken hearts, hurts, sweat , blood, teeth, shout shout shout….point??? Keep fighting just for the sake of the fight…
gives you an excuse to punch someone in the face…which you been trying to do since that person broke you…
It wasn’t hard at first, swinging your arms into another person’s jaw. That is, until they hit you back then it was hard. When your teeth fall out, it’s hard. When blood it gushing from you face in clots, it’s hard.
Boxing has a few different meanings.
It can be wresling which is a fighting sport
where strong people face off
one on one
and it can also mean to package something
to make it ready for shipping or storing
MA was a boxer. He helped in the fight for civil rights. Normally I think that boxing is a very violent sport, so I don’t watch it, but I DO respect it. Also, I secretly wish that I could do it as well. It is a GREAT workout!
He threw a punch. The seconds passed by. Then, his hand was thrust into the air.
He pushed into me, his hands hard and rough against my stomach. I cried out, cowering behind my own thin arms, and shaking. He screamed, bouncing against me and pushing me down. This harsh form of boxing, a slight dance that we do. He is rough and mean and scary. I am small and scared.
Leaving seemed so fruitless. I couldn’t start new somewhere else. Not completely new. All my old baggage would come with me – just like last time. I don’t know why I try this, again and again. I just keep packing. My boxes are always too full to carry easily.
my is good, better than you think. But it’s what scares you – and it’s not that I disagree that other things are better, it’s just that your fear of boxing says more about you than the thing in itself. Boxers are imperfect, but better than the scared.
not underwear but punching people in funky shorts. boxer-gloves look like mikey mouse hands. actually it’s funny how people considerate boxerurs hot, while they’re dressed like idiots
boxing. its a violent sport. itf it can be called a sport at all. two men beating on each other as hard as they can to see who can knock the other out first. primitive.
Two guys are standing in a ring and one of them punches the other with a huge glove. The other guy is like DUDE WTF and the first guy is like WHAT WE’RE BOXING and the second guy is like WHAT I THOUGHT WE WERE SIPPING SOME TEA and the other guy is like OH RIGHT so they take off the gloves and sit down to a nice tea party and then Johnny Depp shows up and is like DOWN WITH THE BLOODY RED QUEEN and the other two boxers are like WTF and Johnny starts reciting the Jabberwocky and they’re like WTF I DONT EVEN
lloyd merriweather is probably the finest boxer in the sport
Sweat and blood in a perfect ring, two men fighting for nothing. The pounding and cracking bones leave scares of danger and violence.
boxing is something I actually really car about. but not the kind of boxing involving beating each other. rather, boxing as in boxing day. I love the concept of boxing dad. taking your old stuff and giving it away to simplify life. perfect.
Bang bang bang! Kangaroos and kicks in the head. Sweet nectar honey dripping from the spoon and the last thing i remember was the thud and the dust from the floorboards. Wretch. Stained eyes blinking slowly to a stop.
Boxing. The sport that held our hearts with Rocky. We loved Russel Crowe in Cinderella Man, as well. What is it of our carnal instinct to fight that attracts us as humans to this brutal sport of destruction? What is it that makes us want to be just like boxers? Even gentle people lacking hostility wish for the same glory as boxers some days.
Boxing, well I would surely love to punch someone straight in the face at the moment. Nick has yet to text me today. He always seems to be the calming factor in my day. Looks like that idea has failed. Perhaps I’ll just be the typical temperamental teenager today delivering empty threats and verbally assaulting any one who dares question me.
Sally loved boxing. She was all for it when I said I wanted to be a boxer. Boxing became my life. Eventually Sally left me for a stockbroker and I ended up with a messed up face, jaw wired shut for a year. But hey, anything for a girl, right?
A big red mitt to the face. Stinging, red, blood. Bruises and black eyes. Busted lips and missing teeth. Muscles ripping. Shirts ripping. Ringing ears and ringing bells.
I’ve never boxed before. At least, not in the physical way of punching at another person. I’ve boxed a present. It was pretty.
black men are fighting with each other iwth red gloves. Like that time a guy bit another boxers ear off… ouch! the rink has a loud bell and that is my dream job, to ring that darn bell. ding ding
once i went on a school trip with …. well, the school. we went to france and at about 10 we were at the eiffel tower. we had to wait in a massive lineup. we all had on black hoodies (me and friends) and pretended to be boxers. the end :)
punching … hitting … killing… mutilating … i wish to see you dead as i keep boxing with your bloody face, blood shattering all over the place, painting the walls in dark red … then you stop breathing … and finally … disappear
float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. I am the greatest there ever was.
Hard core guys pounding eachothers faces. Showing their manlyness and showing their strength. Red gloves, mouth gaurds, the smell of sweat. Towls and water bottles, cheering.
I have nothing to say about boxing. I’ve never watched, never cared for it. It doesn’t interest me in the bit. I’ve never even watched any of the Rocky movies.
boxing seems like a pretty cool sport if you want to let out frustrations. i mean, all you do is hit someone, preferably in the facial area and hopefully knock them out. they can’t take it personally though, as you’re most likely thinking about someone you really dislike when you hit them, and not the person themselves. which seems pretty selfish actually if you ask me.
boxing i did this yester day soo
Boxing is a day celebrated in Canada right after Christmas. I could do with a boxing day to get rid of my abundance of stuff. So much stuff – time to simplify. Like writing for 60 seconds on a random word – a work out for th brain.
I want to learn how to box but i’m afraid of hurting someone. so maybe i shouldn’t. it could release some inner warrior in me and then i will be huring everyone. i dont thnik i would like that too mcuh.
muhammad ali took the boxing world by storm, but theres a new wind blowing. a kid by the name of jack trident started boxing in alley ways and made his way to the top. killed ten people in the eight years boxing. but hes now the champ.
bloody messsy violent ballet. punching bruises ouch! toughest women alive…craziest, too. why would you want to hurt another human being soooo much? Are we that angry, and
She sat at the edge of her seat, absolutely enthralled in the fight. She had never been to a boxing match before; in fact had always expressed her abhorrence for what she referred to as a totally brutual sport. There was something about the gleaming oiled up bodies of the two men, up against each other in an animalistic manner that excited her.
i took my boxer dog to the dentist because of his horrible breath. my mother didnt give a shit that i was broker than broke or that I couldnt afford to do my laundry much less take baby to the pet dentist. but she needed it. i dont regret it. i just wish i had thought to buy toilet paper.
is a terrible sport, it’s violent and horrific. People get joy in seeing someone else beat the living crap out of someone with their fists. The gloves don’t make it more humane. It’s sick
The day after Christmas, when all the excitement dies away, when all the Christmas carols CDs are tucked away for another year, when all the mistletoe is thrown out we fold up the boxes and go about our daily lives. Boxing day.