I already wrote about pouch yesterday. I have a favorite pouch where I keep all my sharpie pens. it is brown with skulls on it. i wish i didn’t have the skulls on it. but it’s still cute.
She lay on her back, heaving in the bushes, recently struck and fearful. A half dozen babies squirmed in her belly, looking simultaneously grotesque and beautiful. Strange, beautiful mother. She died ten minutes after we left her.
My coin pouch was no match for the gnawing jaws of JC. He took down lego villages and blankets like they were gummy worms. Oh, my innocent device was nothing in the mouth of that poor orally fixated boy.
I held it tight in my pouch,
the thick buds,
holding fast to desires yet realized,
taking some out,
rolling it,
imbibing it,
I found in the presence of God,
He,She, It or They,
that life now made sense,
one puff at a time.
Ik heb echt geen flauw idee wat een Pouch is? Iets om de kachel mee aan te maken? Of een soort brom-ligfiets. Misschien is het een kruising tussen een vlieg (mouche) en Parkiet?
I was sitting there, It was still so warm despite all the rain. I didn’t know what to think honestly. Things were so gloomy, so meek. I’ had never seen the world like this. From what little I have
“Enjoy your flight,” the ticket taker checked his boarding pass and Tankersley put the ID back in his travel pouch. “Do you think it’ll work?” McNamara asked as he nervously popped another stick of gum in his mouth? “Sure,” Tankersley replied sarcastically. “All we have to do is get to the Eiffel Tower, place the cameras, secure the top floor, and catch the Jackel when he comes to pick up the money. Easy as pie.”
theat was quite a surprise when I reached in the puouch and ended up in another world completely. Of course one never knows where or what will be in Grandma’s pouch. She is an odd lady. She isn’t really my grandmother either.
The pouch he wore at his waist held things he might need throughout the day: ibuprofen, tissues, peppermints and a bottle of Nyquil that he had doctored with Everclear to enhance the alcohol content. If he had to suffer through a cold, he may as well enjoy it.
Tucked safely away, I barely thought about it as I walked. The pouch was securely attached. I would know if anyone tried to take it from me. A gentle tug as someone bumped into me and it was gone, along with the thief that took it.
She carries a pouch. What is in it, no one actually knows. Only she does, because she guards it with her life the same way a dog would with a piece of its favorite meat.
No one ever dares try ask her about that red, beaten pouch that has surely seen better days. They know better than to do that.
We’ll probably never be on the same page, he had said. And that’s when he gave me the pouch that he had been keeping inside the very deepest part of his drawer. That thing had remained completely hidden inside for the whole duration of our knowing each other, and suddenly, when it emerged, it looked like a death sentence. I didn’t even want to look at it.
a pouch is a weird word. Its something you can keep things in. But when I think of it it reminds me of kanga roos. Like in winnie the pooh kanga carried her son roo in her little pouch. Or I think of my cat. He has this huge pouch of a stomach. Its weird. But he was born with it so it makes him unique in a way. I also think of those things you wear around your waist to carry stuff.
We looked all over for Spizzy. There are not many places a the baby kangaroo can hide in a tenth-floor efficiency apartment. We looked under the couch cushions and under the futon frame. George was afraid she’d drowned in the toilet, but after 45 minutes of intense searching, much to our delight, we heard her muffled thumping from inside her mother’s pouch as she sat at the dining table playing pinochle with our neighbor, Martin the wildebeest.
The pouch was dripping with water as it bounced on the camel’s back. I was a mere slave, and thirsted for a drink of that precious water. If only I could reach the life-giving leather pouch.
The woman at the counter keeps stuffing things into her fanny pack. I’m just staring, wondering why anyone would desire to look so ridiculous. Maybe one day she’ll look in the mirror and see what everyone else sees.
Enter through the rows of metal teeth. They are cold to the touch but you must continue. Inside you will find what you seek. What binds you now is nothing alien. No harm will befall you. Remove, now, what is inside. Pull the shuttle back over the metal teeth and set down the pouch.
In the pouch I found a piece of cheese. This cheese was delightful to look at. I couldn’t imagine what it tasted like. So I just put it back in the pouch and through it over a bridge.
across the outback wandered two lone figures, uncomfortable in the dry heat of australia. two men, days without contact with others. the tension was apparent in the air
I once saw a girl on the bus. I was headed to Chicago to get away from my home town for a few days. The girl across the way had this pouch wrapped around her shoulder. It was blue and gray. There were so many interesting things about this girl, but I could only notice her pouch.
Baby kangaroos live in pouches. I just realized a few years ago that ‘kanga’ plus ‘roo’ like from Winnie the Pooh = kangaroo. It makes so much since now. I guess I wasn’t the brightest kid ever.
Well some things have pouches like kangaroos. If I could to one thing with a Kangaroo pouch it would be to stick my dick in it, shoot my load into it, then bite the Kangaroo in the mouth and scream STEVE IRWIN and run straight into a sting ray to my death. Perfect way to die right there hats off to the people from Australia.
the man got in the kangaroo’s pouch.He said it felt like being in a big pocket and was warm.
I already wrote about pouch yesterday. I have a favorite pouch where I keep all my sharpie pens. it is brown with skulls on it. i wish i didn’t have the skulls on it. but it’s still cute.
A sack, an adventure. Tom Sawyer would bring a pouch full of goodies on a trip. Second thought? A woman’s belly. She has a pouch.
pouch.pooch.poach.peach.peace.place.plate.plato?
Inside my pouch is magic, curiosity and love. But I left it with you. Life’s pretty boring without my pouch. I need you and my pouch back.
She lay on her back, heaving in the bushes, recently struck and fearful. A half dozen babies squirmed in her belly, looking simultaneously grotesque and beautiful. Strange, beautiful mother. She died ten minutes after we left her.
My coin pouch was no match for the gnawing jaws of JC. He took down lego villages and blankets like they were gummy worms. Oh, my innocent device was nothing in the mouth of that poor orally fixated boy.
I held it tight in my pouch,
the thick buds,
holding fast to desires yet realized,
taking some out,
rolling it,
imbibing it,
I found in the presence of God,
He,She, It or They,
that life now made sense,
one puff at a time.
Ik heb echt geen flauw idee wat een Pouch is? Iets om de kachel mee aan te maken? Of een soort brom-ligfiets. Misschien is het een kruising tussen een vlieg (mouche) en Parkiet?
bag
brown leather beads saman indian america small colorful herbs habit
i need to go…
c’mon
it’s urgent!!!
I was sitting there, It was still so warm despite all the rain. I didn’t know what to think honestly. Things were so gloomy, so meek. I’ had never seen the world like this. From what little I have
“Enjoy your flight,” the ticket taker checked his boarding pass and Tankersley put the ID back in his travel pouch. “Do you think it’ll work?” McNamara asked as he nervously popped another stick of gum in his mouth? “Sure,” Tankersley replied sarcastically. “All we have to do is get to the Eiffel Tower, place the cameras, secure the top floor, and catch the Jackel when he comes to pick up the money. Easy as pie.”
she reached into her magic pouch and sprinkled me with fairy dust,”now,you’re gay,” she said.
‘Yeah,’i replied,’i heard you did that to men.’
theat was quite a surprise when I reached in the puouch and ended up in another world completely. Of course one never knows where or what will be in Grandma’s pouch. She is an odd lady. She isn’t really my grandmother either.
The pouch he wore at his waist held things he might need throughout the day: ibuprofen, tissues, peppermints and a bottle of Nyquil that he had doctored with Everclear to enhance the alcohol content. If he had to suffer through a cold, he may as well enjoy it.
Containing the precious container of prospected future. Don’t let me hit the ground.
Tucked safely away, I barely thought about it as I walked. The pouch was securely attached. I would know if anyone tried to take it from me. A gentle tug as someone bumped into me and it was gone, along with the thief that took it.
This is so comfy. Closer to Mum I will never get. And the more I grow, the more I will outgrow her pouch. And have to move out…
She carries a pouch. What is in it, no one actually knows. Only she does, because she guards it with her life the same way a dog would with a piece of its favorite meat.
No one ever dares try ask her about that red, beaten pouch that has surely seen better days. They know better than to do that.
warm?
animal….
i dont have anything for this one
holds whatever you feel like putting inside. yeahhh
Kangaroos! Dipping chewing tobacco! Carrying a fannypack! With a wineskin and coinpurse!
We’ll probably never be on the same page, he had said. And that’s when he gave me the pouch that he had been keeping inside the very deepest part of his drawer. That thing had remained completely hidden inside for the whole duration of our knowing each other, and suddenly, when it emerged, it looked like a death sentence. I didn’t even want to look at it.
a pouch is a weird word. Its something you can keep things in. But when I think of it it reminds me of kanga roos. Like in winnie the pooh kanga carried her son roo in her little pouch. Or I think of my cat. He has this huge pouch of a stomach. Its weird. But he was born with it so it makes him unique in a way. I also think of those things you wear around your waist to carry stuff.
We looked all over for Spizzy. There are not many places a the baby kangaroo can hide in a tenth-floor efficiency apartment. We looked under the couch cushions and under the futon frame. George was afraid she’d drowned in the toilet, but after 45 minutes of intense searching, much to our delight, we heard her muffled thumping from inside her mother’s pouch as she sat at the dining table playing pinochle with our neighbor, Martin the wildebeest.
The pouch was dripping with water as it bounced on the camel’s back. I was a mere slave, and thirsted for a drink of that precious water. If only I could reach the life-giving leather pouch.
The woman at the counter keeps stuffing things into her fanny pack. I’m just staring, wondering why anyone would desire to look so ridiculous. Maybe one day she’ll look in the mirror and see what everyone else sees.
I sure hope so.
Enter through the rows of metal teeth. They are cold to the touch but you must continue. Inside you will find what you seek. What binds you now is nothing alien. No harm will befall you. Remove, now, what is inside. Pull the shuttle back over the metal teeth and set down the pouch.
i had a pouch once… it held things. things like apples, picnics, and hospitals. that is all. :)
I picked a pooch off a porch and put it in a pouch. Ouch
In the pouch I found a piece of cheese. This cheese was delightful to look at. I couldn’t imagine what it tasted like. So I just put it back in the pouch and through it over a bridge.
Oh… I love burgers.
across the outback wandered two lone figures, uncomfortable in the dry heat of australia. two men, days without contact with others. the tension was apparent in the air
The pouch pouts whilst the couch counts the hidden pennies of the swarthy many.
Is pouch all there is?
Or is it?
I once saw a girl on the bus. I was headed to Chicago to get away from my home town for a few days. The girl across the way had this pouch wrapped around her shoulder. It was blue and gray. There were so many interesting things about this girl, but I could only notice her pouch.
O Pouch of a kangaroo,
Oh pouch what to me you do
Oh pouchy pouchy pouchy oo
What a joy to be a marsupial!
Pouches make me think of kangaroos. Kangaroos and other marsupials carry their babies in pouches. I guess human women have pouches too.
Baby kangaroos live in pouches. I just realized a few years ago that ‘kanga’ plus ‘roo’ like from Winnie the Pooh = kangaroo. It makes so much since now. I guess I wasn’t the brightest kid ever.
Well some things have pouches like kangaroos. If I could to one thing with a Kangaroo pouch it would be to stick my dick in it, shoot my load into it, then bite the Kangaroo in the mouth and scream STEVE IRWIN and run straight into a sting ray to my death. Perfect way to die right there hats off to the people from Australia.