Either dark beer or a doorman, a concierge of some sort. At least that’s what the google translator said about it, I had no idea what the word means, but as my girlfriend asked me I had to check. I did not expect to get the same word! :)
a beautiful exit from the world, where the people think they will be braver, but actually they’re not! portal is the word, porter – i just don’t know what the fuck is that, and that i can tell, i’m really frustrated at the moment and my time is runniiiiiiing out
Porter like the beer? Sometimes I like the fashion of porters. Its like adventurous and stylish at the same time. Also, most people would never fight a porter, they seem like tough stock of people. I think I probably had some porters in my ancestry. Pawlowskis would have made good poretrs.
The bags were dropped in the hallway, just inside the expansive apartment. the porter then walked to the windows and drew the curtains.
“Now if Madame would like to make herself comfortable, i shall serve the champagne”
you are the porter of your sins…. the way you behave you think let the time pass evrything will get back to normal and i will get through it. but for your well being you do lots of wrong things. my be you can get a porter to carry your luggage but for your deed’s luggage you are only porter.
Porter? Potter@ Harry Potter! I feel like porter has something to do with fishing but I really have no clue. Sometimes, I’m not the brightest. I know what a porthole is? Does that count? Oh shucks. I should really look this word up later. When I’m done aimlessly writing about. Yes, I should. But I probably wont.
The porter loaded up the sea plane as fast as he could. He would have to fly in the night and try not to get caught. He was looking at possible jail-time. He couldn’t afford that. Not again. Not after going down the way he went last. He was glad the flight would be an hour long. He gulp and wiped the sweat from his brow. This would be last trip he would make. That was the deal. He wished rather than hoped that it was really going to happen.
A man stumbled upon a porter, and the other bowed at him.
“Good evening, sir! What are you doing right now?”
The man stammered, “Uh, you see, I got lost in this port… where is the Princess of the Stars?”
“What?” The porter scratched his head, “that boat sank a year ago…”
“Huh? But I was scheduled on that boat today. I was given this ticket.” He said confusedly, “What’s going on?”
Running across the expanse of grass, the canvas bag rose and fall on the young porter’s back. The weight started to pull down on his should when he felt something pinch his leg. He fell to the ground. Once he lifted his cheek out of the sub-Saharan dust, George saw where the bullet had pierced into his thigh. So he began praying: for forgiveness of all the things he did and all the things he wished he had done, and for no one to realize it was him if he did happen to die.
well i don’t know what a porter is. maybe they transport things from place to place. maybe it’s some fancy british word for something we americans have an easier word for.
Porter, such a silly name. You’d think by now it would be gone from my memory. Why on earth did I choose that name? porter? sounds like some sort of wine producer. Don’t even mention his middle name, sigh.
I have no clue what this word means. Well, actually I have a few clues, but none are conclusive, and therefore I do not feel comfortable trying to invent something witty and creative to write here. I came to this website all excited to write my little prompt, but instead I get PORTERED right in the face. Porter. Hmph. Stupid word.
is a character from Macbeth very very funny, coarse and amusing what would that play be without him? too black, too much blood, indelible or otherwise….
If I were a porter, a transporter where would I bring people? Would there be limits or would I let them be free in their desires and travels? I think I would let them go where ever their hearts desired our where the world we live in won’t let them…because it doesn’t exist.
“You did what to the porter?!” Alex almost screamed the question at Marcy.
Marcy giggled and staggered a little.
“I pretended like I tripped and showed him my ass as I fell down.”
She laughed like it was the funniest thing ever.
Alex grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.
“Did you have panties on?” He growled into her face.
Marcy, realizing he was truly angry, shook her head slowly from side to side.
“I’ll carry it myself. Don’t worry your little head.” She spoke to me as if I were a child– no, she spoke as if she wanted to speak to me like that. It came off more as a petulant attempt to one-up an ex-lover.
Hey porter is the name of a song by Johnny Cash. I have no idea what it’s about – he talks way too fast. Something about crossing the Mason Dixon line. Regardless, it’s a pretty good catchy country tune, gibberish or not.
Porter airlines is one of the most inexpensive ways to go to wonderful places like NYC. Its the way I’ll be travelling when I become a famous broadway actress.
I knew a guy named Greg Porter. He was kind of an asshole. In grade 9 he was two years older than me and wore this red and white polo shirt all the time so my friend and I called him Canada-shirt-guy. What a lame-o nickname.
Anyway, he was an advisor in this group called Junior Achievement. He’s with the same girl he’s been with since like middle school.
I am a fan of porter…..especially a chocolate porter. Not quite the same as stout, but close and just amazing at getting one’s head to sleep at night. Large bottles will do for two drinks. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful!!
Reminds me of Harry Potter for some reason :/ Weird. Also reminds me of bellboys. And maybe trains, and wagons and stations. People who carry stuff for you because you’re too dainty.
“Go undercover AGAIN?” Sherlock asked incredulously. She was in her female form because she couldn’t bother showering after last night’s rain.
“I’m sorry, but none of our officers didn’t want to do the job and now we only have you left,” Lestrade said. He was sure that Sherlock would go undercover for this case. It was him (or her) that investigated on it in the first place.
John patted Sherlock’s shoulder. “Fine, we’re going,” he said as enthusiastically as he could. Sherlock huffed petulantly and walked over to her bedroom. Probably going over the new disguises she bought online. Now that she could go both genders, she decided to take advantage on this should some disguises require a specific gender.
—–
Sherlock and John were impeccably dressed. John in a sharp tuxedo and Sherlock in a sleeveless black dress that cut down to mid-thigh. John couldn’t help but take a slightly longer than usual glance at Sherlock’s legs. She was wearing matching heels that was only about an inch or two. He wondered how Sherlock could wear such when she was used to wearing a waistcoat and trousers when going to events like these.
“John, you should know I’m doing this for the case,” Sherlock said as she linked her arm with his as they walked down a carpeted aisle outside the building. John snapped out of his thoughts and nodded.
They approached a man in a suit and Sherlock said a name that was probably as powerful as Mycroft’s because the man led them straight in. The porter opened the door right away as they entered the gala.
I have no idea what this word means. I suppose it is something I could write about but this website is so pushy. So I’m not thinking, just writing. So yeah, porter.
The trail is steep
Footing is not easy on loose rocks
And I have no porter
To guide me to the top
To carry my things
To support me
So I will keep on climbing
Further and further
But where the hell is the summit
The porter tossed our bags into the back car and we scrambled into the dining car to get our first hot meal in days and watch the passage of time back into a world we had known all our lives. This had been the trip of a lifetime and it was time to go back to our normal lives…or so we thought.
I have a friend with the last name porter. She is very cool, and we used to be very good friends but we’re not that good friends anymore.
Also, I don’t really know what porter means, but I’m guessing it has something to do with maybe shipping or trading or something weird like that.
I know a woman at a rest home with the last name Porter. She was a head of volunteers at a hospital. Now, she sits in a chair and asks why her shoes are off, even though she can’t wear any. She’s beautiful, though. She had a pure heart, and her heart reverted to innocence.
I think there was that part of me that held anxiety and worries and doubt. But there was another part–a small one–that when sparked, illuminated my whole mind. It set my cells ablaze with excitement and an eagerness that took energy to contain. I liked that part best, but sometimes in the dull of summer heat, it was hard to harness any amount of fire.
There was a lonely porter. His wife had passed away years ago. Every weekend a young girl would ride the train. This girl reminded him of his wife at a younger age. He always greeted her with kind words and smiles. She made him feel less lonely.
She was the porter for us all, carrying our weights and dragging our luggage. We took her for granted and let her do what she do. We didn’t think to wonder about how her muscles must’ve ached and how much work it was for her to do. So when she collapsed to the floor, we were at loss to what to do with ourselves and our burdens.
I d;on’t know whwt this isa but that’s okay. It sounds like domthieng for a ;bboat haha that’s weird. I don’t know what to say. like at; all okay then.
Porter, don’t know what it means. Until now. It means trudging across long stretches of land carrying large loads of CRAP. I currently have a canoe on my head, like some malignamated bird beak. Gotta love summer with the Pops.
a porter is someone you transports things for someone.It is his job to do this and he is usually not paid enough and it is nice to tip them.A porter is someone to be appreciated becuase without them you’d be lugging your own stuff up 20 floors.
I know a porter. His name is Harry. So, I call him Harry Porter.
Either dark beer or a doorman, a concierge of some sort. At least that’s what the google translator said about it, I had no idea what the word means, but as my girlfriend asked me I had to check. I did not expect to get the same word! :)
a beautiful exit from the world, where the people think they will be braver, but actually they’re not! portal is the word, porter – i just don’t know what the fuck is that, and that i can tell, i’m really frustrated at the moment and my time is runniiiiiiing out
Porter like the beer? Sometimes I like the fashion of porters. Its like adventurous and stylish at the same time. Also, most people would never fight a porter, they seem like tough stock of people. I think I probably had some porters in my ancestry. Pawlowskis would have made good poretrs.
The bags were dropped in the hallway, just inside the expansive apartment. the porter then walked to the windows and drew the curtains.
“Now if Madame would like to make herself comfortable, i shall serve the champagne”
And with that, the afternoon began.
Porter quarter shorter order
you are the porter of your sins…. the way you behave you think let the time pass evrything will get back to normal and i will get through it. but for your well being you do lots of wrong things. my be you can get a porter to carry your luggage but for your deed’s luggage you are only porter.
porter. it was long ago. not so long, but still, far. i was simply sitting, waiting, when who should come along, but a porter.
Porter? Potter@ Harry Potter! I feel like porter has something to do with fishing but I really have no clue. Sometimes, I’m not the brightest. I know what a porthole is? Does that count? Oh shucks. I should really look this word up later. When I’m done aimlessly writing about. Yes, I should. But I probably wont.
The porter loaded up the sea plane as fast as he could. He would have to fly in the night and try not to get caught. He was looking at possible jail-time. He couldn’t afford that. Not again. Not after going down the way he went last. He was glad the flight would be an hour long. He gulp and wiped the sweat from his brow. This would be last trip he would make. That was the deal. He wished rather than hoped that it was really going to happen.
teleporters were invented in 2013.
transporters have been around for ages, but it’s usually time consuming.
A man stumbled upon a porter, and the other bowed at him.
“Good evening, sir! What are you doing right now?”
The man stammered, “Uh, you see, I got lost in this port… where is the Princess of the Stars?”
“What?” The porter scratched his head, “that boat sank a year ago…”
“Huh? But I was scheduled on that boat today. I was given this ticket.” He said confusedly, “What’s going on?”
Running across the expanse of grass, the canvas bag rose and fall on the young porter’s back. The weight started to pull down on his should when he felt something pinch his leg. He fell to the ground. Once he lifted his cheek out of the sub-Saharan dust, George saw where the bullet had pierced into his thigh. So he began praying: for forgiveness of all the things he did and all the things he wished he had done, and for no one to realize it was him if he did happen to die.
well i don’t know what a porter is. maybe they transport things from place to place. maybe it’s some fancy british word for something we americans have an easier word for.
Porter, such a silly name. You’d think by now it would be gone from my memory. Why on earth did I choose that name? porter? sounds like some sort of wine producer. Don’t even mention his middle name, sigh.
I have no clue what this word means. Well, actually I have a few clues, but none are conclusive, and therefore I do not feel comfortable trying to invent something witty and creative to write here. I came to this website all excited to write my little prompt, but instead I get PORTERED right in the face. Porter. Hmph. Stupid word.
is a character from Macbeth very very funny, coarse and amusing what would that play be without him? too black, too much blood, indelible or otherwise….
If I were a porter, a transporter where would I bring people? Would there be limits or would I let them be free in their desires and travels? I think I would let them go where ever their hearts desired our where the world we live in won’t let them…because it doesn’t exist.
Sounds like someone who handels your money, like a banker. But he’s a pig. No a legit pig. Pink with a curly tail. Yeah…
“You did what to the porter?!” Alex almost screamed the question at Marcy.
Marcy giggled and staggered a little.
“I pretended like I tripped and showed him my ass as I fell down.”
She laughed like it was the funniest thing ever.
Alex grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.
“Did you have panties on?” He growled into her face.
Marcy, realizing he was truly angry, shook her head slowly from side to side.
“I’ll carry it myself. Don’t worry your little head.” She spoke to me as if I were a child– no, she spoke as if she wanted to speak to me like that. It came off more as a petulant attempt to one-up an ex-lover.
I’d never met this woman in my life.
Hey porter is the name of a song by Johnny Cash. I have no idea what it’s about – he talks way too fast. Something about crossing the Mason Dixon line. Regardless, it’s a pretty good catchy country tune, gibberish or not.
Porter airlines is one of the most inexpensive ways to go to wonderful places like NYC. Its the way I’ll be travelling when I become a famous broadway actress.
I knew a guy named Greg Porter. He was kind of an asshole. In grade 9 he was two years older than me and wore this red and white polo shirt all the time so my friend and I called him Canada-shirt-guy. What a lame-o nickname.
Anyway, he was an advisor in this group called Junior Achievement. He’s with the same girl he’s been with since like middle school.
I am a fan of porter…..especially a chocolate porter. Not quite the same as stout, but close and just amazing at getting one’s head to sleep at night. Large bottles will do for two drinks. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful!!
Reminds me of Harry Potter for some reason :/ Weird. Also reminds me of bellboys. And maybe trains, and wagons and stations. People who carry stuff for you because you’re too dainty.
Airlines. Its the Toronto Island airport and my future place where I will be taking off to NYC ad a bunch of other north american places.
The porter stared at the drunk couple leaving the building.
Again?, he asked to himself. It was the third time in the week he saw young Emily Walken and her boyfriend leave the building drunk.
The girl was going through a lot, he could only guess….
“Go undercover AGAIN?” Sherlock asked incredulously. She was in her female form because she couldn’t bother showering after last night’s rain.
“I’m sorry, but none of our officers didn’t want to do the job and now we only have you left,” Lestrade said. He was sure that Sherlock would go undercover for this case. It was him (or her) that investigated on it in the first place.
John patted Sherlock’s shoulder. “Fine, we’re going,” he said as enthusiastically as he could. Sherlock huffed petulantly and walked over to her bedroom. Probably going over the new disguises she bought online. Now that she could go both genders, she decided to take advantage on this should some disguises require a specific gender.
—–
Sherlock and John were impeccably dressed. John in a sharp tuxedo and Sherlock in a sleeveless black dress that cut down to mid-thigh. John couldn’t help but take a slightly longer than usual glance at Sherlock’s legs. She was wearing matching heels that was only about an inch or two. He wondered how Sherlock could wear such when she was used to wearing a waistcoat and trousers when going to events like these.
“John, you should know I’m doing this for the case,” Sherlock said as she linked her arm with his as they walked down a carpeted aisle outside the building. John snapped out of his thoughts and nodded.
They approached a man in a suit and Sherlock said a name that was probably as powerful as Mycroft’s because the man led them straight in. The porter opened the door right away as they entered the gala.
I have no idea what this word means. I suppose it is something I could write about but this website is so pushy. So I’m not thinking, just writing. So yeah, porter.
The trail is steep
Footing is not easy on loose rocks
And I have no porter
To guide me to the top
To carry my things
To support me
So I will keep on climbing
Further and further
But where the hell is the summit
The porter tossed our bags into the back car and we scrambled into the dining car to get our first hot meal in days and watch the passage of time back into a world we had known all our lives. This had been the trip of a lifetime and it was time to go back to our normal lives…or so we thought.
I have a friend with the last name porter. She is very cool, and we used to be very good friends but we’re not that good friends anymore.
Also, I don’t really know what porter means, but I’m guessing it has something to do with maybe shipping or trading or something weird like that.
I know a woman at a rest home with the last name Porter. She was a head of volunteers at a hospital. Now, she sits in a chair and asks why her shoes are off, even though she can’t wear any. She’s beautiful, though. She had a pure heart, and her heart reverted to innocence.
I think there was that part of me that held anxiety and worries and doubt. But there was another part–a small one–that when sparked, illuminated my whole mind. It set my cells ablaze with excitement and an eagerness that took energy to contain. I liked that part best, but sometimes in the dull of summer heat, it was hard to harness any amount of fire.
There was a lonely porter. His wife had passed away years ago. Every weekend a young girl would ride the train. This girl reminded him of his wife at a younger age. He always greeted her with kind words and smiles. She made him feel less lonely.
She was the porter for us all, carrying our weights and dragging our luggage. We took her for granted and let her do what she do. We didn’t think to wonder about how her muscles must’ve ached and how much work it was for her to do. So when she collapsed to the floor, we were at loss to what to do with ourselves and our burdens.
I d;on’t know whwt this isa but that’s okay. It sounds like domthieng for a ;bboat haha that’s weird. I don’t know what to say. like at; all okay then.
Porter, don’t know what it means. Until now. It means trudging across long stretches of land carrying large loads of CRAP. I currently have a canoe on my head, like some malignamated bird beak. Gotta love summer with the Pops.
a porter is someone you transports things for someone.It is his job to do this and he is usually not paid enough and it is nice to tip them.A porter is someone to be appreciated becuase without them you’d be lugging your own stuff up 20 floors.