cartoons are what what we make to amuse the population today while at the same time ridiculing and bringing to attention the problems of society. they are what my kids will study in 20 years in history class and wish cartoons were more literal.
Time to put everything in a carton box. Clothes that we never use anymore. Things that are clutter our desks. The past. It’s time for us to put everything behind us and move on to the new year.
But because we’ve placed them in a carton box, it’s easy to open it up and reminisce in the past. It’s also nice to have the option to put it back on your desk or in the closet when you decide that it’s still important to you.
It sat there for a long time. The carton of milk that I had bought only a couple of days ago. It was gone now. I don’t have much money. I don’t have much fun. This place is quiet. I’m unsure about my future. If there is any future for me. I don’t have any skills. Any hopes. Any dreams. Not real ones, anyway. But this place is quiet. And it is mine. For right now, anyway. I wonder if I’ll stay or if I go at the end of the year. I was smart enough to save a little money each month. Not much but enough. I wonder if I’ll make it. I don’t really care though; not right now. This place is mine. That carton of milk too. Empty but mine.
It was a really bad cartoon, but I watched it anyway as the clock ticked down, and I sighed heavily as I waited. Waiting. I’ve come to hate this game. I’m not good at it. I never win. I always give up in the end. They think I will this time too. But I just watch my silly shows and bide my time. Pretending everything is fine. Everything is looking up. But I wonder.. is it? Or would I rather just sit here and watch those cartoons while pretending to be waiting still.
The carton of milk sat on the table, tipped to one side, the white liquid poured out onto the floor. The image on the back had startled Charlie and he sat in the chair, puahsed back from the table, wide eyed.
The image was a young boy, his eyes light and his hair tussled. It was Charlie when he was a kid.
Poor Sydney Carton. Headed for the guillotine in a tumbrel while Madame Defarge clacks her knitting needles. The revolution devours its own, they say, and that’s a scary thing to watch. But it never fails.
I think a carton of milk when i saw the word carton. It also reminds me of the book, The Face On The Milk Carton, by Caroline B. Cooney. I read this book in fifth grade and it confused me so much i had to read it a second time through.
A carton of milk is a staple in my fridge. It contains my baby’s preferred fluid. He likes it mixed with Hershey’s powdered chocolate milk mix. I prefer to buy organic milk. My only wish is that milk cartons were recyclable in my area.
The carton laid there on the counter, begging to be returned to its safe refuge in the fridge. However, I knew this was how it had to be as I watched the carton have its slow death in the room’s temperature. That’s just the way it is.
carton is fun,i like watching them,yes ,very interesting,my favouriate one is bleach,the best character is HIQIYIHU,yes,hes a boy a bit shy but very handsome,i love him
Carton is a beautiful word. Its better than packet, or box. Its a closed, comfortable word, and I hate the americans for being able to use it more than us. A carton of drink. Its a lovely word, and makes me smile. It makes me think of Ribena, and all those nice childish moments that go with it.
I sat down at the breakfast table, but for once there was no companionable conversation. They say that silence is deafening, but this sort of silence – the silence left by a person who has gone from your life – just leaves you still and empty. Nobody is there to talk to you and to hear what you say; nobody to react to the radio, tell you how many sugars, or offer you a lift to the station. No words, that morning: just the text on the side of the milk carton.
cartons are for keeping things inside things, no? often i think that everyone actually lives their life inside a carton- we all slop around within the limits wer’e given and never actually question whether it might be more interesting to be orange juice than say, milk? or whatever we are inside our little folded, shaped boxes.
cartons hold eggs and ,ilk they are quite useful i guess as they stop things from breaking… i dont like breaking things so i guess they are a pretty awesome invention, one would assume me carton created them, though they would be very uncreateive wouldnt it… yes, i guess its a break off from cartoon, mr cartoon. yes its like mickey mouse.
Carton of milk. Carton of cigarettes. I’d prefer the first one. It’s made me stronger, while the other one’s made me weaker. The latter is far more unpleasant. Both remind me of childhood even though I have only used one.
Carton reminds me of shifting, moving, change,clean up.There are positive cartons and negative cartons…the one’s that lie stacked for ages, gathering cobwebs are the one’s that are negative.
a carton of milk. it’ll prob go bad in the fridge. aging for a couple of months till i finally get fed up with friends saying “damn, that’s been in there awhile.”. so i should avoid bying it…
My first thought was about a carton of milk or juice but then my mind instantly went to the pictures on the back of cartons of missing children. We don’t have those here but they are fairly iconic on many tv shows. I wish I could be on one, not because Ive been kidnapped but because Ive run away…
A carton is a curious thing,
Lots of things this carton can bring,
Groceries, gifts and horror untold –
Cartons can come in new and in old –
I’d like to fill a new carton,
with hugs and kisses until I’m done,
then send it off to the love of my life,
Wrapped up with ribbon –
and filled up, but so light!
I drank the carton of this deadly calcium, I overdosed by the carton. I’m dehydrated, addicted, but I need more or this carton that made me happy. I’ll die of the food poisoning, but I need one last carton to thirst my hunger
The milk carton sat on the counter, open and stinking. It was utterly ridiculous to me that he’d left it out. He was so meticulous about cleaning up after himself. Then I noticed the half eaten bowl of cereal. So out of character. I began searching the house, more signs that there was something wrong. Then I realized…he was gone. For good this time. Never coming back.
its is the most exiting think a children can think abt it every 24 hours. its a non human, imaginative think one can make it. india is still way behind in making cartoon animation filsm. but is in the development stage. and would go ahead of every other counry
of milk, thick and white, foamy sometimes. tatstes slightly rotten. i don;t like it, except on cereal, but only skim, whole ick ick ick. When it pours out of the jug it looks lumpy, nasty. I think it’s because my mom made us drink powdered milk mixed with regular, that has to be it.
there was a cartn of milk sitting on the table. it had been months since i had a glass of that cold delicious stuff. it was so hot here in sao paulo and was just so glad to see some liquid, but i knew milk was always a bad choice in heat conditions. i sat there for a mere 10 minutes loathing the concept of not having anything to drink. suddenly my mom came in the room and poured the milk into the bowl of cereal, where it lay right next to a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice.
There was a carton of milk left on the table. It was bad, very bad. Where was she? I know her well enough to know she wouldn’t leave an open carton of milk on the table if she knew she was going to be gone for a long time. What could have happened? Where could she possibly be? I don’t know if I will ever know.
The old carton was still there. Just where they’d left it. On the counter, right next to the cat food. It was odd how a carton of orange juice could remind him of her. She’d mentioned leaving it out on the plane. He never thought she wouldn’t be there to put it away with him.
the back of my head is blown out like a target in a shooting range and i can see the few flashing lights in my mind’s eye like police cars and fire trucks, but i know that they aren’t there.
i know my mom will see me on the back of that milk carton. smiling face and cheerful disposition.
the small package was filled with great items. Random as they may be. Or perfectly set, rowwed and ordered, wrapped in celo. Sometimes you never really do know. If addressed the excitement is more heartfelt, addressed by a
Alone with his thoughts in the cold freezer room, of the “Quick Mart”. Jared stared blankley at the cartons of milk he had found strewn across the floor. Thinking not at all
i had a carton of soymilk and it was bad. stinky, clotty, a little bit sour. i put it in my cereal, and took a big bite. i wish i had a carton of beer instead or maybe a carton of you.
a milk carton was once used to deliver people fresh dairy products, later utilized by a homeless man over the turnpike as a mobile home, now i sit on it when a chair will no longer suffice
cartoons are what what we make to amuse the population today while at the same time ridiculing and bringing to attention the problems of society. they are what my kids will study in 20 years in history class and wish cartoons were more literal.
Time to put everything in a carton box. Clothes that we never use anymore. Things that are clutter our desks. The past. It’s time for us to put everything behind us and move on to the new year.
But because we’ve placed them in a carton box, it’s easy to open it up and reminisce in the past. It’s also nice to have the option to put it back on your desk or in the closet when you decide that it’s still important to you.
It sat there for a long time. The carton of milk that I had bought only a couple of days ago. It was gone now. I don’t have much money. I don’t have much fun. This place is quiet. I’m unsure about my future. If there is any future for me. I don’t have any skills. Any hopes. Any dreams. Not real ones, anyway. But this place is quiet. And it is mine. For right now, anyway. I wonder if I’ll stay or if I go at the end of the year. I was smart enough to save a little money each month. Not much but enough. I wonder if I’ll make it. I don’t really care though; not right now. This place is mine. That carton of milk too. Empty but mine.
It was a really bad cartoon, but I watched it anyway as the clock ticked down, and I sighed heavily as I waited. Waiting. I’ve come to hate this game. I’m not good at it. I never win. I always give up in the end. They think I will this time too. But I just watch my silly shows and bide my time. Pretending everything is fine. Everything is looking up. But I wonder.. is it? Or would I rather just sit here and watch those cartoons while pretending to be waiting still.
The carton of milk sat on the table, tipped to one side, the white liquid poured out onto the floor. The image on the back had startled Charlie and he sat in the chair, puahsed back from the table, wide eyed.
The image was a young boy, his eyes light and his hair tussled. It was Charlie when he was a kid.
Poor Sydney Carton. Headed for the guillotine in a tumbrel while Madame Defarge clacks her knitting needles. The revolution devours its own, they say, and that’s a scary thing to watch. But it never fails.
A cardboard container, usually thought of as a form of packaging often containing milk.
I think a carton of milk when i saw the word carton. It also reminds me of the book, The Face On The Milk Carton, by Caroline B. Cooney. I read this book in fifth grade and it confused me so much i had to read it a second time through.
A carton of milk is a staple in my fridge. It contains my baby’s preferred fluid. He likes it mixed with Hershey’s powdered chocolate milk mix. I prefer to buy organic milk. My only wish is that milk cartons were recyclable in my area.
The carton laid there on the counter, begging to be returned to its safe refuge in the fridge. However, I knew this was how it had to be as I watched the carton have its slow death in the room’s temperature. That’s just the way it is.
carton is fun,i like watching them,yes ,very interesting,my favouriate one is bleach,the best character is HIQIYIHU,yes,hes a boy a bit shy but very handsome,i love him
Carton is a beautiful word. Its better than packet, or box. Its a closed, comfortable word, and I hate the americans for being able to use it more than us. A carton of drink. Its a lovely word, and makes me smile. It makes me think of Ribena, and all those nice childish moments that go with it.
She opened the egg carton and took out the last egg. Protein. Guess I need as much as I can get, she thought.
As she tossed the empty container away she noticed a piece of paper wadded up. For reasons she still doesn’t understand, she opened it.
She wishes now that she hadn’t. somethings are just better left alone.
Received a carton filled with a balloon,
It popped, all I heard was baroom………
I sat down at the breakfast table, but for once there was no companionable conversation. They say that silence is deafening, but this sort of silence – the silence left by a person who has gone from your life – just leaves you still and empty. Nobody is there to talk to you and to hear what you say; nobody to react to the radio, tell you how many sugars, or offer you a lift to the station. No words, that morning: just the text on the side of the milk carton.
cartons are for keeping things inside things, no? often i think that everyone actually lives their life inside a carton- we all slop around within the limits wer’e given and never actually question whether it might be more interesting to be orange juice than say, milk? or whatever we are inside our little folded, shaped boxes.
full of chocolate!!!
i have loved cartoons ever since i was a kid…
cartons hold eggs and ,ilk they are quite useful i guess as they stop things from breaking… i dont like breaking things so i guess they are a pretty awesome invention, one would assume me carton created them, though they would be very uncreateive wouldnt it… yes, i guess its a break off from cartoon, mr cartoon. yes its like mickey mouse.
i hate god
Carton of milk. Carton of cigarettes. I’d prefer the first one. It’s made me stronger, while the other one’s made me weaker. The latter is far more unpleasant. Both remind me of childhood even though I have only used one.
Carton reminds me of shifting, moving, change,clean up.There are positive cartons and negative cartons…the one’s that lie stacked for ages, gathering cobwebs are the one’s that are negative.
a carton of milk. it’ll prob go bad in the fridge. aging for a couple of months till i finally get fed up with friends saying “damn, that’s been in there awhile.”. so i should avoid bying it…
My first thought was about a carton of milk or juice but then my mind instantly went to the pictures on the back of cartons of missing children. We don’t have those here but they are fairly iconic on many tv shows. I wish I could be on one, not because Ive been kidnapped but because Ive run away…
question. how much milk could a milk jug chug if a milk jug could chug milk? answer. one cartons worth.
A carton is a curious thing,
Lots of things this carton can bring,
Groceries, gifts and horror untold –
Cartons can come in new and in old –
I’d like to fill a new carton,
with hugs and kisses until I’m done,
then send it off to the love of my life,
Wrapped up with ribbon –
and filled up, but so light!
It is kinda fun to play with if you have a lot of it. When I was little I used carton boxes to make houses. Yay for me! xD
TAMAHARU LOVE
MIYANO MAMORU RULZ
CHEESEEE
I drank the carton of this deadly calcium, I overdosed by the carton. I’m dehydrated, addicted, but I need more or this carton that made me happy. I’ll die of the food poisoning, but I need one last carton to thirst my hunger
The milk carton sat on the counter, open and stinking. It was utterly ridiculous to me that he’d left it out. He was so meticulous about cleaning up after himself. Then I noticed the half eaten bowl of cereal. So out of character. I began searching the house, more signs that there was something wrong. Then I realized…he was gone. For good this time. Never coming back.
its is the most exiting think a children can think abt it every 24 hours. its a non human, imaginative think one can make it. india is still way behind in making cartoon animation filsm. but is in the development stage. and would go ahead of every other counry
of milk, thick and white, foamy sometimes. tatstes slightly rotten. i don;t like it, except on cereal, but only skim, whole ick ick ick. When it pours out of the jug it looks lumpy, nasty. I think it’s because my mom made us drink powdered milk mixed with regular, that has to be it.
there was a cartn of milk sitting on the table. it had been months since i had a glass of that cold delicious stuff. it was so hot here in sao paulo and was just so glad to see some liquid, but i knew milk was always a bad choice in heat conditions. i sat there for a mere 10 minutes loathing the concept of not having anything to drink. suddenly my mom came in the room and poured the milk into the bowl of cereal, where it lay right next to a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice.
There was a carton of milk left on the table. It was bad, very bad. Where was she? I know her well enough to know she wouldn’t leave an open carton of milk on the table if she knew she was going to be gone for a long time. What could have happened? Where could she possibly be? I don’t know if I will ever know.
The old carton was still there. Just where they’d left it. On the counter, right next to the cat food. It was odd how a carton of orange juice could remind him of her. She’d mentioned leaving it out on the plane. He never thought she wouldn’t be there to put it away with him.
the back of my head is blown out like a target in a shooting range and i can see the few flashing lights in my mind’s eye like police cars and fire trucks, but i know that they aren’t there.
i know my mom will see me on the back of that milk carton. smiling face and cheerful disposition.
i’m sorry i made such a huge fucking mistake.
the small package was filled with great items. Random as they may be. Or perfectly set, rowwed and ordered, wrapped in celo. Sometimes you never really do know. If addressed the excitement is more heartfelt, addressed by a
Alone with his thoughts in the cold freezer room, of the “Quick Mart”. Jared stared blankley at the cartons of milk he had found strewn across the floor. Thinking not at all
i had a carton of soymilk and it was bad. stinky, clotty, a little bit sour. i put it in my cereal, and took a big bite. i wish i had a carton of beer instead or maybe a carton of you.
a carton of eggs broken, thrown down like so many things before- destroyed by passion- created by frustration, guilt, reality
a milk carton was once used to deliver people fresh dairy products, later utilized by a homeless man over the turnpike as a mobile home, now i sit on it when a chair will no longer suffice