It came with a kit, a box encrusted with diamonds? No that was impossible, it must have been crystals. It was heavy, and as she opened it and peered inside, she saw a kit of books and a brush. It was lined with velvet, and it was soft to the touch. The book looked ancient, and seemed fragile. What was this?
The first aid kit is right beside me. When I was younger and I hurt myself, mum would put a band-aid on the wound and I would instantly feel better. Or atleast trick myself into feeling better. Before I can stop myself, I’ve reached into the first aid kit and I’m unwrapping a band-aid. I press it on to the skin of my arm and I wait a moment. I don’t feel any better.
When I was young, I asked my mother why she hated cats. She told me a very sad story about a little girl who was walking home from school one day. The little girl heard a cat meowing from somewhere and when she went to investigate, she found a small abandoned kitten hiding in between two buildings. She felt sorry for the little kit and decided to take it home, but when she got there, she was told that cats were “disgusting little creatures” and to take it back.
It had begun to rain and the little girl was crying as she left the house. She didn’t want to leave the little kit out in the pouring rain but she had no choice. She left the little kitten in a dug out beneath a house and left. She promised herself that she’d never have a cat again.
That little girl was my mother and that was the reason she never let me have a cat. -_-
Kit stared at me for awhile, making up his mind about whether he liked my new haircut or not I guessed. But when he spoke, I was taken completely by surprise.
when i think of the word kit I think about things that are combined either for convenience or with the same theme. Kits come in all varieties and across all professions. Sometimes purchasing kits can be expensive, like for teachers and schools that buy science kits. Ouch! Very pricey!!
It contained a ruby red button, and some forest green embroidery floss.
The cloth was white like the silent snow falling outside the window.
The miniature kit contained more than just materials to make a gift for a small grinning child.
It held the vibrance and vividness of the Christmas season.
kit kat, kittens, this word leads me to silly little things. I wish there was something more to say, but there’s not much in this one for me. Sorry :).
One Christmas, I asked for a dissecting kit because I was strange. I was really into science experiments and gross stuff for awhile in like 4th and 5th grade and so that same Christmas I got a microscope. It was pretty awesome if I do say so myself.
When the person experienced heart failure at the restaurant, I hurried behind the counter and found the CPR Kit in order to perform CPR and ensure his survival.
A baby fox, prancing through the grass. She stalks upon another and falls against teh green blanket. The grasslands, she is the queen! Or the princess, at the moment. Spies lazy black ears twitching; curiously, she explores. Pounces on the lazy, intriguing cat, who paws her away, but then holds her close again. Ah, she is loved.
“Kit,” I called loudly. A few stones bounced off the rocky walls, or perhaps the floor. It was impossible to tell. All I could see was the darkness of the tunnel. “Kit!” Still no answer, only the sound of more stones displacing themselves.
The whole kit and kaboodle.
That’s me. Wake up and smell the fricken roses, buddy. I got it all.
I know you and you know me. I’ll be there till the end and love you no matter what. But you need to quit fucking around and open your god damn eyes. I won’t be here forever.
Kit is such a strange name for a girl. I remember reading a book as a child, coming across that name. The character was tomboyish. I think a name like Kit belongs to a posh, uppity woman with high fashion sense.
Struggling to get her writing kit out fast enough to take notes, she swore softly to herself, fighting the bag that it was in. Then, her journal wouldn’t free itself from the small bag she kept it in. “Oh, elements and balance,” she swore, “What now?”
Today I picked up my kit and headed out on the job. My kit contained one wrench, one pen, one measuring tape, two kittens, one noodle and one poodle. Kit and ca-noodle, kit and ca-poodle. I walked my kit merrily down Main until I come across a power line and I lit it up with noodles and poodles of the best sort, measured to scale of course.
Private Andrews looked into his kit for a needle and thread. He’d been lying in the foxhole for seven hours and he figured while he was going to be in there a while, he might as well do some mending. The green thread he found wasn’t a perfect match, but it would have to do. That ruptured spleen wasn’t going to fix itself.
“Here you go!” the salesperson said with a large smile on her face. I smiled slightly and took the kit from her outstretched hands. “Hope you have a super day!” she called out as I left the store. I swallowed and tried to remind myself to breathe and not let my nervousness ruin everything as it had a tendency to do.
The only thing that stands out in my mind for this word is a person I used to go to school with named Kit. It was short for “Catherine”. I remember her being one of the girls that everyone wished they could be, but luckily were not.
The ark room stank of musty old smells, filling the air with a resounding stench. The kit was hidden near the back of the shelves– which was his reason for being here.
The anthropomorphic wolf reached out, grabbing the metal handle. It felt smooth and cold in his palm.
She looked at the first aid kit that hung on the wall.
“Can anybody help?” the woman was crying out frantically.
She closed her eyes. There was no way she could do it. She had only just got her FIrst Response certificate – this was the real thing, there was no way she could do it. She remained rooted in her seat, her stomach feeling a little queasy at the steak she had just taken a bite of as people flocked to the fallen man.
The med kit was on the other side of the lake in the burning airplane. She sat down on the ground, amongst leaves and refuse, realizing just how screwed she really was. Survival wasn’t something she could take for granted anymore. She was going to have to fight for it.
the model was based in kit form. the little boy looked at the kit and sighed. He didn’t have any glue to build the model. He looked around for something that might do the trick. He found his mother sellotape. “That will do” he thought to himself.
life doesnt come with a survival kit. with problems and challanges you sort of have to come up with your own. theres no easy way to put it together but once its all set…you actually should use it.
“boom!”one last violent up~roar,and then everything-the whole kit and caboodle-had suddenly gone completely quite…”Look!”someone shouted,pointing towards the window.powerful girl was flying towards a white pillar of smoke somewhat in the direction of mt.rainier
Kit’s are stupid. They’re nothing more than a way to signify who’s on what team. Know what I think? I think to make it interesting everyone should wear the SAME kits. Try to tell who’s winning or losing or on which team then. Yeah! That’s the ticket. Mudda fugga. The end.
I just wrote about the word kit and I don’t want to write about it again. Kit is a really boring word. However it makes me think about my father’s mess kit from WWII which I used to play with when I was a little girl. I was playing with one word for the first time and it brought me back here! I’m not “kitting” around.
Kit was certainly not seen by most to be “normal”. She was an outcast, didn’t care nearly as much as the others, what those others thought of her. She was probably much closer to an inner utopia than we’d ever be. She was free. She was smart like that. Smart like I wish I had been.
The toolkit fell out of the kitchen cabinet and smashed my right big toe. It hurt like hell. I jumped around the kitchen until I started to laughed so hard I had to pee. I ran across the room to the bathroom and stubbed my left big toe on the dining room table.
I would like to carry my kit with me everywhere I go. It would have band-aids and a pen and paper and surprises that wouldn’t leap out at me like a snake on a spring, but that I could pick out with my finger tips pinched round their soft stillness and hold in the palm of my hand.
Inside your dark metal kit, you hold the instruments that pierce my heart. With nimble fingers you choose your weapons.
It came with a kit, a box encrusted with diamonds? No that was impossible, it must have been crystals. It was heavy, and as she opened it and peered inside, she saw a kit of books and a brush. It was lined with velvet, and it was soft to the touch. The book looked ancient, and seemed fragile. What was this?
The first aid kit is right beside me. When I was younger and I hurt myself, mum would put a band-aid on the wound and I would instantly feel better. Or atleast trick myself into feeling better. Before I can stop myself, I’ve reached into the first aid kit and I’m unwrapping a band-aid. I press it on to the skin of my arm and I wait a moment. I don’t feel any better.
When I was young, I asked my mother why she hated cats. She told me a very sad story about a little girl who was walking home from school one day. The little girl heard a cat meowing from somewhere and when she went to investigate, she found a small abandoned kitten hiding in between two buildings. She felt sorry for the little kit and decided to take it home, but when she got there, she was told that cats were “disgusting little creatures” and to take it back.
It had begun to rain and the little girl was crying as she left the house. She didn’t want to leave the little kit out in the pouring rain but she had no choice. She left the little kitten in a dug out beneath a house and left. She promised herself that she’d never have a cat again.
That little girl was my mother and that was the reason she never let me have a cat. -_-
put something together, something beautiful. use your own materials? use what you are given? make one for others, or for yourself?
what? what do you mean kit? i don’t have any kit…unless…you mean this one! ha ha! oh wait that was a terrible joke
David? why are you talking to yourself in the mirror? the party already started
Kit stared at me for awhile, making up his mind about whether he liked my new haircut or not I guessed. But when he spoke, I was taken completely by surprise.
“I love you.”
when i think of the word kit I think about things that are combined either for convenience or with the same theme. Kits come in all varieties and across all professions. Sometimes purchasing kits can be expensive, like for teachers and schools that buy science kits. Ouch! Very pricey!!
It contained a ruby red button, and some forest green embroidery floss.
The cloth was white like the silent snow falling outside the window.
The miniature kit contained more than just materials to make a gift for a small grinning child.
It held the vibrance and vividness of the Christmas season.
kit kat, kittens, this word leads me to silly little things. I wish there was something more to say, but there’s not much in this one for me. Sorry :).
One Christmas, I asked for a dissecting kit because I was strange. I was really into science experiments and gross stuff for awhile in like 4th and 5th grade and so that same Christmas I got a microscope. It was pretty awesome if I do say so myself.
Some once gave me a kit to use, but it sat on the shelf until I was thrown away.
When the person experienced heart failure at the restaurant, I hurried behind the counter and found the CPR Kit in order to perform CPR and ensure his survival.
A baby fox, prancing through the grass. She stalks upon another and falls against teh green blanket. The grasslands, she is the queen! Or the princess, at the moment. Spies lazy black ears twitching; curiously, she explores. Pounces on the lazy, intriguing cat, who paws her away, but then holds her close again. Ah, she is loved.
kit, im in trouble!!!
“Kit,” I called loudly. A few stones bounced off the rocky walls, or perhaps the floor. It was impossible to tell. All I could see was the darkness of the tunnel. “Kit!” Still no answer, only the sound of more stones displacing themselves.
The whole kit and kaboodle.
That’s me. Wake up and smell the fricken roses, buddy. I got it all.
I know you and you know me. I’ll be there till the end and love you no matter what. But you need to quit fucking around and open your god damn eyes. I won’t be here forever.
Kit is such a strange name for a girl. I remember reading a book as a child, coming across that name. The character was tomboyish. I think a name like Kit belongs to a posh, uppity woman with high fashion sense.
kit = kitty, I LOVE DOM!!!!
Struggling to get her writing kit out fast enough to take notes, she swore softly to herself, fighting the bag that it was in. Then, her journal wouldn’t free itself from the small bag she kept it in. “Oh, elements and balance,” she swore, “What now?”
Today I picked up my kit and headed out on the job. My kit contained one wrench, one pen, one measuring tape, two kittens, one noodle and one poodle. Kit and ca-noodle, kit and ca-poodle. I walked my kit merrily down Main until I come across a power line and I lit it up with noodles and poodles of the best sort, measured to scale of course.
Private Andrews looked into his kit for a needle and thread. He’d been lying in the foxhole for seven hours and he figured while he was going to be in there a while, he might as well do some mending. The green thread he found wasn’t a perfect match, but it would have to do. That ruptured spleen wasn’t going to fix itself.
“Here you go!” the salesperson said with a large smile on her face. I smiled slightly and took the kit from her outstretched hands. “Hope you have a super day!” she called out as I left the store. I swallowed and tried to remind myself to breathe and not let my nervousness ruin everything as it had a tendency to do.
The only thing that stands out in my mind for this word is a person I used to go to school with named Kit. It was short for “Catherine”. I remember her being one of the girls that everyone wished they could be, but luckily were not.
The ark room stank of musty old smells, filling the air with a resounding stench. The kit was hidden near the back of the shelves– which was his reason for being here.
The anthropomorphic wolf reached out, grabbing the metal handle. It felt smooth and cold in his palm.
She looked at the first aid kit that hung on the wall.
“Can anybody help?” the woman was crying out frantically.
She closed her eyes. There was no way she could do it. She had only just got her FIrst Response certificate – this was the real thing, there was no way she could do it. She remained rooted in her seat, her stomach feeling a little queasy at the steak she had just taken a bite of as people flocked to the fallen man.
The med kit was on the other side of the lake in the burning airplane. She sat down on the ground, amongst leaves and refuse, realizing just how screwed she really was. Survival wasn’t something she could take for granted anymore. She was going to have to fight for it.
the model was based in kit form. the little boy looked at the kit and sighed. He didn’t have any glue to build the model. He looked around for something that might do the trick. He found his mother sellotape. “That will do” he thought to himself.
Assembly.
Instructions.
Compilations and gatherings of useful items.
A kit of information?
A kit for safety, a kit for fun…
A kit for cats.
life doesnt come with a survival kit. with problems and challanges you sort of have to come up with your own. theres no easy way to put it together but once its all set…you actually should use it.
I packed my zombie survival kit into my bag and headed for the door. The Dawn of the Dead was upon us; uh oh. I had to run.
Kitten in the kitchen, shelves of kitsch itching to be dusted
Kitty does it with her tail.
Good kitty. Nice kitty.
Kitchen keeper.
Kit? Why do I want to talk about a kit? I never had much to do with a kit – BORING. I would rather finish and create my own ideas.
“boom!”one last violent up~roar,and then everything-the whole kit and caboodle-had suddenly gone completely quite…”Look!”someone shouted,pointing towards the window.powerful girl was flying towards a white pillar of smoke somewhat in the direction of mt.rainier
Kit roared into life without first considering how or why it did so. “Where to, son?” it stuttered. Hasslehoff stared at the console in disbelief…
Kit’s are stupid. They’re nothing more than a way to signify who’s on what team. Know what I think? I think to make it interesting everyone should wear the SAME kits. Try to tell who’s winning or losing or on which team then. Yeah! That’s the ticket. Mudda fugga. The end.
I just wrote about the word kit and I don’t want to write about it again. Kit is a really boring word. However it makes me think about my father’s mess kit from WWII which I used to play with when I was a little girl. I was playing with one word for the first time and it brought me back here! I’m not “kitting” around.
Kit was certainly not seen by most to be “normal”. She was an outcast, didn’t care nearly as much as the others, what those others thought of her. She was probably much closer to an inner utopia than we’d ever be. She was free. She was smart like that. Smart like I wish I had been.
The toolkit fell out of the kitchen cabinet and smashed my right big toe. It hurt like hell. I jumped around the kitchen until I started to laughed so hard I had to pee. I ran across the room to the bathroom and stubbed my left big toe on the dining room table.
I would like to carry my kit with me everywhere I go. It would have band-aids and a pen and paper and surprises that wouldn’t leap out at me like a snake on a spring, but that I could pick out with my finger tips pinched round their soft stillness and hold in the palm of my hand.