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takes too long
By whittingtonr on 04.23.2009
the car stared up , but it was my first time. I had never felt so nervous in my life there I was driving the manual for the first time. A certain pride came with driving a manual. Heck it had the word Man in it. I knew it would be tough, considering I learned to drive an automatic first, but I knew that it was a rite of passage with my father as well. Here it came, time to go, i push the gas and I’m dead.
By C.S. Branam on 04.23.2009
I wish I had a manual for life. I want something that tells me what to do when I stand up in the morning and then account for every moment of my day. Like a life’s manual add-on app. I want a manual so that I can live on auto.
By shelien on 04.23.2009
manual just seems like such a pedantic word. i envision myself digging a hole for pennies on the hour when i think of “manual.” my hands feel heavy, my mind weary.
By jeckles on 04.23.2009
To understand these direction that have been printed for you, we have supplied your new computer manual with a computer manual manual.
Learn how to use your computer manual to it’s fullest extent while also learning to multitask with it.
Available for free with all new manual shipments.
By Zenzetra on 04.23.2009
Jerry Manual is the manager for the New York Mets. Or is that Manuel? I think its the latter. Manuals suck, cause they be trying to tell me what to do. Fuck that. No one and nothing tells me what to do. I’ll figure out that component A goes into slot B on my own, thank you very much. Buncha bitches.
By Chris on 04.23.2009
I open you up, cutting my finger on your page. Why do you hate me so much? I try to do things on my own, but I always come back to you. You know it so well. You really know how to help. I wish I could take you where ever I go.
By breanne on 04.23.2009
handy dandy manual. i used to write manuals for a living… you know, technical writing horsecrap like click on the File menu and then click “self-destruct.” for some reason, manual makes me think of masturbation which is NOT technically technical!
By julie on 04.23.2009
manual labor really sucks. No it doesn’t. You feel good afterwards. Like you’ve actually done something. But that geos for any labor really. Fuck when I finish an essay I feel epic after. Super sweet feeling.
Manuals are cool too.
By amy on 04.23.2009
Now this is the story all about how
My life got flipped, turned upside down
And Id like to take a minute just sit right there
Ill tell you how I became the prince of a town called bel-air
In west philadelfia born and raised
On the playground where I spent most of my days
Chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool
And all shooting some b-ball outside of the school
When a couple of guys said were up in no good
Started making trouble in my neighbourhood
I got in one little fight and my mom got scared
And said youre moving with your aunte and uncle in bel-air
(only the first three episodes of season one)
I begged and pleaded with her the other day
But she packed my suitcase and sent me on my way
She gave me a kissin and she gave me my ticket
I put my walkman on and said I might aswell kick it
First class, yo this is bad,
Drinking orange juice out of a champagne glass
Is this what the people of bel-air livin like,
Hmm this might be alright!
I whistled for a cab and when it came near the
Licensplate said fresh and had a dice in the mirror
If anything I could say that this cab was rare
But I thought now forget it, yo home to bel-air
I pulled up to a house about seven or eight
And I yelled to the cabby yo, home smell you later
Looked at my kingdom I was finally there
To settle my throne as the prince of bel-air
By David on 04.23.2009
“GAH!” She scramed, starting to rip at the pages in front of her. She took a lighter and threw ignited them right there on the concrete floor at her feet. “There you go! That’s what I think of your stupid freaking manual!” She screamed back at him who stood at the bottom of the stairs out of the flame’s light. “I absolutely hate it!” She continued to have her fit as he just stood there calm and saying nothing.
He moved closer to her, shadows dancing across his face. “Thank you…” He whispered to her and walked away.
By Chelsey Carlson on 04.23.2009
I’m terrified of ending up a technical writer. Like, all this time, the MFA, the grant money, the unfinished novel, and I’m going to die writing tractor manuals or proofreading DVR programming instructions. Then again, I don’t really believe that will happen. It’s called resolve, right? I’m not the person who ends up writing instructions for a living.
By Maia on 04.23.2009
By richia on 04.23.2009
i drive a manual car. it was difficult at first as i was thrown into it with no idea what to do. first i constantly let the clutch go way too early but with help from my then best friend i soon learned how to do it just right. though later my father informed me she had not been a very good teacher. in fact he rather thought she did a poor job in training me and thinks this resulted in my clutch going out.
By Non on 04.23.2009
a book that is used to describe how something works. Gives direction and instructions. Most things, especially electronics come with one. Manual’s are also available for training courses, whether for specialty trianing or school. They are pretty useful.
By Krista on 04.23.2009
tells you what to do.
I used to have a friend with the last name of Emmanuel. I never really kept in touch with him after we moved from NJ. He used to be a really good friend of mine. I kind of miss him. I remember when we used to be in Karate and we got my mom to let him stay the night by asking his mom first.
By Charles on 04.23.2009
It was supposed to tell me what to do, how to put the television remote together, but when I unfolded the crisp paper, I was instead greeted with a graphic display of nudity. Someone had switched out my remote manual with someone’s pierced and tattooed vagina; I’ve never been happier
By Ari on 04.23.2009
the use of hand stimulation to bring about the male orgasm when he thinks about his best friend, now a captain of the swim team, and how all he wants is for the captain to see him as a potential lover, a person who could be worth the trouble.
By weebo on 04.23.2009
Without thought, I surge forwards. Down the hallway, and I see the door. The door to his room. That dreaded place in which I never want to return. Ironic that I find myself here again. My steps are slow as I drag my feet forward, and everything disappears except for the door. The door to my future. I don’t want to see whats behind it. I stop in front of it, and once again, in a hypnotize fashion, I raise my hand and manually open the door, holding my breath as to what’s on the other side. I don’t want to know.
By Veroniqua on 04.23.2009
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.