manual of my life has been put before me. I don’t know what to do with it. I follow it lightly. But I want to take a marker and scribble in my guidelines. It’s my life. I should live it.
Manual labor I’m not sure what that is. i wish I got a different word. I don’t really know what this word means. This green line does not want to go faster. Usually I want more time, but not right now, because I don’t know what to say. Manual…car? Isn’t that real? I’m not really sure.
The man walked onto a large balcony overlooking the gardens. The scent of summer was in the air and the flowers were blooming all around him. He smiled and watched the slaves and servants bent over in the gardens. They were accustomed to hard labor, allowing them to work hours in the sun without a break or a drink of water.
Once, my boyfriend and I had a disagreement over whether the majority of cars were manuals or automatics, so we went to a few parking lots and went around and counted each of them to see. He was right, there were many more automatics, but I maintained that it wasn’t a large majority (at least 65 percent) so I was right.
Something that tells you how to do something. I’ve never read the manual for my ipod or my cell phone, but I usually read the english part of the manual on my ikea furniture sets.
he sat down with a pair of scissors and the box. slowly, he dragged one of the blades across the clear packaging tape and ripped the box open the rest of the way. sifting through the packaging peanuts, he pulled out a smooth, thin book. the manual. he tossed it aside, not knowing that approximately 32 hours from now, he’d regret that decision fully.
I am so tired of people just being on ‘manual’ mode all the time. Especially with religion. It is so easy to just click on and go on auto pilot. Say the right things, present yourself the right way in front of certain people but in the end you are still hypocritical and full of shit. I am so over it. The End.
it was a guide for a futuristic laser weapon that i thought could wire to make candy apples instead of laser beams but i crossed the wires and it blew off my hands. tough luck right?
I opened the pages of the manual and was unable to read the print. Lousy graphic designer who doesn’t understand typography, I thought to myself. This is why we need designers working to redesign gov’t information… Clearly I”m over worked!!
Was it Japanese? Or Chinese? No. They use symbols, don’t they? Maybe it’s German. Italian? French! No, no… I can read a little French. Why did I buy this stupid TV. I can’t even read the fucking manual.
manual. books that tell you what to do. and how to do it. my aunt worked a company that proof read these things. i think. manual can also be like labor. you know, manual labor….or something.
Manuals, the 3 inch thick books that are supposed to help you hook up and use toys and electronics! Yeah, I think I’d rather work it all out on my own!
My first car was a “manual.” It was rough at first for me to get the hang of, and at first, I never thought I would get the hang out it. The concept of doing 4 things at one time is 3 things too many. For me, simplicity is key.
i like being manual, i can do many things with my hands. what cant you do with your hands its awesome. i need a manual for a manual lets construct deconstruction and make a total deconstruction
There are to many manuals. I have never completly read one. I’ve skimmed them, used the index to search for things. I have never read one like a good book. Everything comes with a manual, but no body reads them.
The manual for life is a strange and mysterious thing. People become serial killers, professionals, slackers, moms, dads, based on their manual that they are born with. A manual can direct them towards the kids in leather jackets with machine guns or the kids with pigtails and shiny clean faces. The manual is partly written by your parents and where you live.
Manual? What do they mean? Manual transmission? That’s what I always think of. My first car was a 1993 Toyota Tercel. It was awesome because it was so beat up that I never had to worry about it. I could leave the windows down and doors unlocked and not have to worry about rain ruining the upholstery or someone stealing it. Then I forgot to change the oil and the engine blew a gasket.
manual? like manually doing things or manual – information booklet on how to do something? why does my mind always go to the perverted place i.e. manual manipulation/ejaculation? dirty, dirty
Read the manual, foolian cube! Read it, OH MY GOD READ IT PLEASE READ IT IT IS NECESSARY TO READ IT. WHAT ARE YOU DOING, THE ZOMBIES ARE COMING, AHHH MY GOD! IT’S EATING MY BRAING, GAH THERE’S BLOOD EVERYWHERE OH MY GAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWDDDDDDD WHAT THE FUCK HURRY UP!
Read the manual, foolian cube! Read it, OH MY GOD READ IT PLEASE READ IT IT IS NECESSARY TO READ IT. WHAT ARE YOU DOING, THE ZOMBIES ARE COMING, AHHH MY GOD! IT’S EATING MY BRAING, GAH THERE’S BLOOD EVERYWHERE OH MY GAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWDDDDDDD WHAT THE FUCK HURRY UP!
manual, really, is that the word? well, I had to look trough the manual on my working car the other day, because I couldn quite figure out how to open the hood…
it was weird, cause that aint such a hard task… but it seemed impossible…
labor, fidning the manual after not knowing what to do, not liking manual labor as a child finding it beneath me, my father telling me to mow the lawn, trying to figure out how to jumpstart the care today when my friend Jackie killed her car by accident the cute teacher in my physics class Manuel, who was actually german and spoke with a thick german accent.
He stimulates her manually with his hands but more likely his conversation distracts them more than anything else. She wishes that they could always be together and this moment wouldn’t feel so pressed and like a hard grip on a glass waiting to break,
E-manual, that’s what they called him. But it does little to described the smell of the hunt that was always him. He’d spend day upon night perched in the forest ind of trees just waiting for the beast to awaken and cross paths with him. The prey never had a chance you see the hunter was armed with high powered metal sure to end the precious heartbeat of the lesser creature. then it happened, a crackle, who know from where, but this single sound issued the primitive warning that the deer has always counted on to live the day. SO BACK TO the CIVILIZation ROAD HOME, WHERE DINNER WOULD BE ON THE TABLE AND A WIFE WHO WOULD LISTEN EVER SO ATTENTIVELY TO THE STORY OF THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY.
My friend Cali has a manual car. It is an old red toyota corolla. She loves the shit out of it and loves to drive, especially if she is messed up in some way, e.g. drunk, high,….. So, this makes for a very interesting manual drive. Also, she sucks at driving it. My old boss will only drive manuals, saying any other car is a luxury. His car is an old red toyota truck. Strange.
manual labour is gruelling but fair. you get exactly as much done as your body can take and no more. but I guess that’s true of intellectual labour too – the limitations of the mind determine how much you get done also, just you can’t see them as well.
Manual. To do things on one’s own.
I’m a manual person I think
I tend to do things on my own
I have people around me but they, when called upon in times of need, aren’t always there.
When your manual, your self reliant. That’s what I am. I rely on myself to get me through each day, no one else.
I was never very good at driving an automatic. My feet, eager to satisfy a manual, are quick to stomp on brakes instead of clutches. My right hand unthinkingly grasps at empty air in search of a gearshift. I find them pleasureless and plain. An automatic is like a eunuch. Where the fuck are the BALLS?
a how-to, a dull piece of literature explaining how to operate some equipment, or how to fix said equipment once it breaks (it will). my laptop has a manual on the laptop, not in print, so once my lapotp kicks it, i won’t be able to fix it because the maual is on the laptop. woot
manual of my life has been put before me. I don’t know what to do with it. I follow it lightly. But I want to take a marker and scribble in my guidelines. It’s my life. I should live it.
Manual labor I’m not sure what that is. i wish I got a different word. I don’t really know what this word means. This green line does not want to go faster. Usually I want more time, but not right now, because I don’t know what to say. Manual…car? Isn’t that real? I’m not really sure.
The man walked onto a large balcony overlooking the gardens. The scent of summer was in the air and the flowers were blooming all around him. He smiled and watched the slaves and servants bent over in the gardens. They were accustomed to hard labor, allowing them to work hours in the sun without a break or a drink of water.
Once, my boyfriend and I had a disagreement over whether the majority of cars were manuals or automatics, so we went to a few parking lots and went around and counted each of them to see. He was right, there were many more automatics, but I maintained that it wasn’t a large majority (at least 65 percent) so I was right.
Something that tells you how to do something. I’ve never read the manual for my ipod or my cell phone, but I usually read the english part of the manual on my ikea furniture sets.
he sat down with a pair of scissors and the box. slowly, he dragged one of the blades across the clear packaging tape and ripped the box open the rest of the way. sifting through the packaging peanuts, he pulled out a smooth, thin book. the manual. he tossed it aside, not knowing that approximately 32 hours from now, he’d regret that decision fully.
I am so tired of people just being on ‘manual’ mode all the time. Especially with religion. It is so easy to just click on and go on auto pilot. Say the right things, present yourself the right way in front of certain people but in the end you are still hypocritical and full of shit. I am so over it. The End.
it was a guide for a futuristic laser weapon that i thought could wire to make candy apples instead of laser beams but i crossed the wires and it blew off my hands. tough luck right?
I opened the pages of the manual and was unable to read the print. Lousy graphic designer who doesn’t understand typography, I thought to myself. This is why we need designers working to redesign gov’t information… Clearly I”m over worked!!
you’re in control. you dictate the happenings. it’s all up to you. step up and take the wheel.
Was it Japanese? Or Chinese? No. They use symbols, don’t they? Maybe it’s German. Italian? French! No, no… I can read a little French. Why did I buy this stupid TV. I can’t even read the fucking manual.
manual. books that tell you what to do. and how to do it. my aunt worked a company that proof read these things. i think. manual can also be like labor. you know, manual labor….or something.
if the human body’s systems were to function manually rather than automatically, we wouldn’t be able to social, be emotionally complex, think or love.
Manuals, the 3 inch thick books that are supposed to help you hook up and use toys and electronics! Yeah, I think I’d rather work it all out on my own!
hands dexterity do it your self, book, not automatic, car shifting, handy man, typing
My first car was a “manual.” It was rough at first for me to get the hang of, and at first, I never thought I would get the hang out it. The concept of doing 4 things at one time is 3 things too many. For me, simplicity is key.
i like being manual, i can do many things with my hands. what cant you do with your hands its awesome. i need a manual for a manual lets construct deconstruction and make a total deconstruction
by hand, just do it by your self. Autostimulation. Not automatic but totally on your own. Its just you by yourself
There are to many manuals. I have never completly read one. I’ve skimmed them, used the index to search for things. I have never read one like a good book. Everything comes with a manual, but no body reads them.
The manual for life is a strange and mysterious thing. People become serial killers, professionals, slackers, moms, dads, based on their manual that they are born with. A manual can direct them towards the kids in leather jackets with machine guns or the kids with pigtails and shiny clean faces. The manual is partly written by your parents and where you live.
Manual? What do they mean? Manual transmission? That’s what I always think of. My first car was a 1993 Toyota Tercel. It was awesome because it was so beat up that I never had to worry about it. I could leave the windows down and doors unlocked and not have to worry about rain ruining the upholstery or someone stealing it. Then I forgot to change the oil and the engine blew a gasket.
manual? like manually doing things or manual – information booklet on how to do something? why does my mind always go to the perverted place i.e. manual manipulation/ejaculation? dirty, dirty
Read the manual, foolian cube! Read it, OH MY GOD READ IT PLEASE READ IT IT IS NECESSARY TO READ IT. WHAT ARE YOU DOING, THE ZOMBIES ARE COMING, AHHH MY GOD! IT’S EATING MY BRAING, GAH THERE’S BLOOD EVERYWHERE OH MY GAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWDDDDDDD WHAT THE FUCK HURRY UP!
Read the manual, foolian cube! Read it, OH MY GOD READ IT PLEASE READ IT IT IS NECESSARY TO READ IT. WHAT ARE YOU DOING, THE ZOMBIES ARE COMING, AHHH MY GOD! IT’S EATING MY BRAING, GAH THERE’S BLOOD EVERYWHERE OH MY GAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWDDDDDDD WHAT THE FUCK HURRY UP!
manual, really, is that the word? well, I had to look trough the manual on my working car the other day, because I couldn quite figure out how to open the hood…
it was weird, cause that aint such a hard task… but it seemed impossible…
then I took the manual and I found out
labor, fidning the manual after not knowing what to do, not liking manual labor as a child finding it beneath me, my father telling me to mow the lawn, trying to figure out how to jumpstart the care today when my friend Jackie killed her car by accident the cute teacher in my physics class Manuel, who was actually german and spoke with a thick german accent.
He stimulates her manually with his hands but more likely his conversation distracts them more than anything else. She wishes that they could always be together and this moment wouldn’t feel so pressed and like a hard grip on a glass waiting to break,
E-manual, that’s what they called him. But it does little to described the smell of the hunt that was always him. He’d spend day upon night perched in the forest ind of trees just waiting for the beast to awaken and cross paths with him. The prey never had a chance you see the hunter was armed with high powered metal sure to end the precious heartbeat of the lesser creature. then it happened, a crackle, who know from where, but this single sound issued the primitive warning that the deer has always counted on to live the day. SO BACK TO the CIVILIZation ROAD HOME, WHERE DINNER WOULD BE ON THE TABLE AND A WIFE WHO WOULD LISTEN EVER SO ATTENTIVELY TO THE STORY OF THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY.
Carly’s man manual:
men should be merciless, brave, dominant, loners, fast with a weapon, and superior to women in every sense.
Or at least this is the way Carly’s men think.
My friend Cali has a manual car. It is an old red toyota corolla. She loves the shit out of it and loves to drive, especially if she is messed up in some way, e.g. drunk, high,….. So, this makes for a very interesting manual drive. Also, she sucks at driving it. My old boss will only drive manuals, saying any other car is a luxury. His car is an old red toyota truck. Strange.
The manual was long with few illustrations, and glared at me in harsh black-on-white. The pages stared me down.
You won’t conquer me, I thought. You can’t. Because I am going to read you, COVER TO COVER!! Let’s see you beat that, Mr. Staring Manual!
Of course, I was only fooling myself.
Manual labor.
Automobile manual.
Manual on a car.
Manual on a driving game in an arcade.
You are just so manual.
one time I was skate boarding and I did a manual.. It was awesome, until I fell and broke my collar bone and now I am paralyzed.
manual labour is gruelling but fair. you get exactly as much done as your body can take and no more. but I guess that’s true of intellectual labour too – the limitations of the mind determine how much you get done also, just you can’t see them as well.
Manual. To do things on one’s own.
I’m a manual person I think
I tend to do things on my own
I have people around me but they, when called upon in times of need, aren’t always there.
When your manual, your self reliant. That’s what I am. I rely on myself to get me through each day, no one else.
I was never very good at driving an automatic. My feet, eager to satisfy a manual, are quick to stomp on brakes instead of clutches. My right hand unthinkingly grasps at empty air in search of a gearshift. I find them pleasureless and plain. An automatic is like a eunuch. Where the fuck are the BALLS?
a how-to, a dull piece of literature explaining how to operate some equipment, or how to fix said equipment once it breaks (it will). my laptop has a manual on the laptop, not in print, so once my lapotp kicks it, i won’t be able to fix it because the maual is on the laptop. woot
Id be a big something else and id prowl and hunt and Id taste the knife with the fresh red in the timber airand the placemats set for the winter.
kindoms came and fell
bloodlust got us hard
up on the scales
crying criyng
weare lame
phobetic
followers
of the finest of deceptions
what the fuck is this shit,, am i suposed to write a manual,,or ride emanuel,,what do you think about6 it cause id rather have melony right now