A scooter is a neat little tool that helps you get around. Two-wheeled. It’s also a great name for a dog. There are motorized and non-motorized scooters. Fun.
the pensive scooter, slides
moving inside of a pair of pears
glides
Delphic,
the operator of the scooter, lashes;
godly, the operator’s trails leave an indelible crispy line of whiplash.
I think that my grandma uses one to get around Kroger. I used one to ride up and down the street, but it caused me too much energy. I think this could be nickname for some small runt of a kid or the runt of the litter in a dog patch. I love this word and I cannot think of anything else related to it.
I am done writing a bout this wor.d
The man on the scooter took the turn, hit the sand, and slid. For about one hundred feet he slid (the scooter too) in the inescapable realization he had taken the turn too quickly, too sharply, too inescapably a poster child for sensible riding.
a scooter is cool. I had a scooter when I was small. it can also be a name or a nickname. like for a dog. scooter could also be a person who scoots. who knows? maybe you could invent a new type of scooter that jkdlsfds.
Scooterja, this little blonde kid with eyes that wouldn’t let me think. Crisp and satisfying, he wouldn’t let a thing slip past him, and got away with everything.
Swinging my leg as fast as I could, the small rubber wheels of my scooter dutifully attempted to roll even faster. I had to beat Bobby down this hill! If you had asked me, I wouldn’t have been able to say why I had to beat him.
But when I found myself in the hospital later for my broken arm, I decided that whatever reason I had for doing this to myself was probably not good enough.
I rode a scooter with my buddy Mickey in Denali once. It was a load of fun. It felt a bit awkward when we rolled up to our friends on them though, as they stood their like mere bipeds. I felt I’d joined a higher caste and was looking down on them from my 49cc of glory.
When I think of a scooter I think of being a 13 year old girl riding down the hills of California with my brother in the electric scooters we got for christmas. Chyeah.
Once upon a time I had a blue scooter. It was cool and had fluffy handles. My mom handed it down to me because I turned 8. My brother stole it once, but his friends laughed at him (because you know, fluffy handles). The end. PS. I don’t know what happened to it. I think it went to my uncle.
I am part of hiking group here in town. We had a hike planned and one of the gentlemen in the group, that none of us had met, asked for a ride to the trail head. Apparently, he does not own a car, but he does own a scooter. Seems like there are many people in this town that don’t own a car, but they do own a scooter!
the boy scooted closer to her warm naked body in the bed he could hear her breathing steadily she rolled over and faced him but still was sleeping then he kissed down her mouth neck and breast and loved on her
the boy on the scooter did a flip in the air trying to impress the girl he looked at her while in the air but all of a sudden he landed wrong and fell off the scooter and broke his arm the girl mackenzie ran over and asked if he felt anything broken the boy jeremiah told her to come close and so she did he said i think i broke my arm but because you are here i,m alright so he got up on his one good elbow and kissed her soft lips. by that time the his dad had come to pick him up but seeing jeremiah there on the ground called an ambulance and then rushed over he asked jeremiah where was hurting and he said my arm. 5 minutes later the ambulance got there and brung him to the e r and he went home the same day with a cast on his arm and bruises down his side.
mackenzie came to his house the next day while he was taking a nap she sneeked in his room and gave him a quick kiss on his lips and was leaving when he awoke and asked her to sit down on his bed then he asked what she was doing at his house she said i came to see you and give you this she pulled out a candy bar by this time he was sitting up and holding her hand then he took a deep breath and said come lie in bed with me but she refused so he didnt ask again then he grabbed her arm and said lets dance so she turned on the raidio and they danced until they were wiped out and they both fell unto the bed thats when he told her its all a fake my arm isnt broke and i dont need a cast he said as he cut the cast with his jackknife then he grabbed her hands and pulled her then he striped but she didnt know it and then he forced her to do the same and he had sex and 9 months later she was giving birth while holding his hand
Just 3 years old
Riding around as if she has been doing it for years.
I don’t even think I could have taught her this
kids these days.
Its beautiful-their growth
their mystery and strength and intelligence
Both the scooter and the six-year-old had jam smeared on them, the former due to the latter, her hands unwashed since lunch, and the wheels made the same high squeal as did the child’s throat, they unoiled since the thing belonged to her father, and as he watched them both he thought of how easy it would be for both of them to tip. The father set down his coffee and followed her down the driveway.
She raced down the block, around the corner, making a full loop and coming back in front of the house. She was making a soft hooting sound the whole time and her hair was whipping back in the wind. I laughed as I sat on the stoop and watched. Where had this little girl come from? How did she have so much joy in her? I put my hands on my sides where I could still feel the stretch mark scars. She can’t be made from me. It’s not possible.
A scooter can be a lot of things it just matters where you are at like if you are at France then they should kind of be like a motercycle. If you are in america then it should be a childs toy.
Scooter are very easy to use if you have a non motorized one for you can control how fast or how slow without any falls. But sometimes if you don’t have a good sense of balance you can fall off.
The scooter got for his birthday was a shiny metal one. It was one of the motorized scooters that has a chair on that you could sit on. Which to me looks kind of hard to stay balanced.
Oh that’s a neat little thing that a scooter. I like them red, going into the small paved streets of Italy in particular. They give you a feeling of freedom. They have a scent of holidays to them. They let you go wild in the small mountain roads of Corsica. They’re all good to you.
scooter, move over. I wanna be a kid again. But then I don’t. because kids don’t really know the real world. Maybe that’s a good thing. To be cluless, have everything be new. To have so much hope inside. Old or young, you’re still you.
Scooters are an invention of man. They have been existing since ever. Eternity is the word i would describe. I haven’t owned a scooter myself but I have ridden one for sure. its a strange vehicle. Unlike a motorbike that too stylish and free scooters are more for people who don;t want to take risks.
My younger brother has been scootering for a grand total of three years now. Every time I visit he takes me outside to show me his latest trick. I’m pretty sure it’s the same trick every time. I’m pretty sure there’s only one trick you can do. It won’t get you laid, that’s for sure, but I don’t think he knows that one yet.
I was late for the biggest day of my life, already feeling at a loss for words and breath, running to the phone because my cell wasn’t charged, ruining my $300 shoes and my first Armani suit, cursing my broken down supposedly reliable Camry, feeling the heat of the moment up my spine and my savior, my salvation, my hero appears through the fog of confusion to offe me a way out of this hell – what? Really? This is what it comes down to? A fucking scooter?
“What about a scooter?” I ask.
“Scooter is the nickname of your new maths tutor.”
“Really?” I ask, laughing in bewilderment.
“Don’t laugh!” Mum says while trying to contain laughter. “It’s rude!”
we are the authors of our own mistakes
etched in time
forgotten by the morning
an apocyolpse of mythological proportions
looking with authority through the unrealistic
terror dreams
betrayed by what we thought was apathy
scooting with the scooter
wondering if we have a destination
or if we’re in the ouroboros outer boroughs.
She watched the scooter whizz past, almost clipping her toes.
“Watch it. Fucking asshole.” she said flipping the driver off lazily. He probably didn’t even notice but it made her feel slightly better regardless.
The scooter shot through the traffic, a streak of brilliant red flashing through the line of older, rusted cars stopped at the light. The young man driving the scooter wasn’t wearing a helmet and his long, black hair flowed out behind him.
“I think he doesn’t want to ruin his hairdo by wearing a helmet,” my friend in the passenger seat observed.
Later, the traffic started to move again, but slowly as it avoid a red scooter in the road, its driver sprawled on the sidewalk. A silent crowd gathered around watching the unmoving scene.
once upon a time there was a talking scooter named david. he was sold at a store for items that didn’t work the way they should. david was always falling down whenever someone rode him, but little did anyone know, that david was a really great toilet plunger.
I had a scooter when I was a kit, I remember it was red and the cause of many scraped knees. My sidewalk was bumpy so i had the chance to ride it on the road like a big kid.It made me feel like an adult.
Scooter was on the muppet babies. He was a cute little guy. You also ride a scooter when you’re a kind. Scoot booty! Cost. Rest. Too. Toes. Toe. Coo. Cooter.
I rode my scooter to the skateboard park, where my crush and her grungy, black tee’d buddies were practicing their ollies and spins against the unyielding and hostile concrete. I felt like such a nerd on my beaten up metal ride, but once I snapped on my headphones and settled my back against the wire fence, I saw Lily’s shadow hover over me.
Life just doesn’t want to go in one smooth direction, like riding a #scooter across the beech after a warm stormy afternoon. It has so many more moments of beauty! @oznolem
Hop on my scooter,
take me away,
to a land of extravagance and light hearted play.
A scooter is a neat little tool that helps you get around. Two-wheeled. It’s also a great name for a dog. There are motorized and non-motorized scooters. Fun.
the pensive scooter, slides
moving inside of a pair of pears
glides
Delphic,
the operator of the scooter, lashes;
godly, the operator’s trails leave an indelible crispy line of whiplash.
I think that my grandma uses one to get around Kroger. I used one to ride up and down the street, but it caused me too much energy. I think this could be nickname for some small runt of a kid or the runt of the litter in a dog patch. I love this word and I cannot think of anything else related to it.
I am done writing a bout this wor.d
The man on the scooter took the turn, hit the sand, and slid. For about one hundred feet he slid (the scooter too) in the inescapable realization he had taken the turn too quickly, too sharply, too inescapably a poster child for sensible riding.
a scooter is cool. I had a scooter when I was small. it can also be a name or a nickname. like for a dog. scooter could also be a person who scoots. who knows? maybe you could invent a new type of scooter that jkdlsfds.
Scooterja, this little blonde kid with eyes that wouldn’t let me think. Crisp and satisfying, he wouldn’t let a thing slip past him, and got away with everything.
Swinging my leg as fast as I could, the small rubber wheels of my scooter dutifully attempted to roll even faster. I had to beat Bobby down this hill! If you had asked me, I wouldn’t have been able to say why I had to beat him.
But when I found myself in the hospital later for my broken arm, I decided that whatever reason I had for doing this to myself was probably not good enough.
He was riding on the scooter when he hit a pot hole, and face planted onto the concrete sidewalk. He stood up and noticed his nose was bleeding.
I rode a scooter with my buddy Mickey in Denali once. It was a load of fun. It felt a bit awkward when we rolled up to our friends on them though, as they stood their like mere bipeds. I felt I’d joined a higher caste and was looking down on them from my 49cc of glory.
I remember when everyone had a scooter, the Razors that where meant to be used for the best trick.
When I think of a scooter I think of being a 13 year old girl riding down the hills of California with my brother in the electric scooters we got for christmas. Chyeah.
Once upon a time I had a blue scooter. It was cool and had fluffy handles. My mom handed it down to me because I turned 8. My brother stole it once, but his friends laughed at him (because you know, fluffy handles). The end. PS. I don’t know what happened to it. I think it went to my uncle.
I am part of hiking group here in town. We had a hike planned and one of the gentlemen in the group, that none of us had met, asked for a ride to the trail head. Apparently, he does not own a car, but he does own a scooter. Seems like there are many people in this town that don’t own a car, but they do own a scooter!
the boy scooted closer to her warm naked body in the bed he could hear her breathing steadily she rolled over and faced him but still was sleeping then he kissed down her mouth neck and breast and loved on her
the boy on the scooter did a flip in the air trying to impress the girl he looked at her while in the air but all of a sudden he landed wrong and fell off the scooter and broke his arm the girl mackenzie ran over and asked if he felt anything broken the boy jeremiah told her to come close and so she did he said i think i broke my arm but because you are here i,m alright so he got up on his one good elbow and kissed her soft lips. by that time the his dad had come to pick him up but seeing jeremiah there on the ground called an ambulance and then rushed over he asked jeremiah where was hurting and he said my arm. 5 minutes later the ambulance got there and brung him to the e r and he went home the same day with a cast on his arm and bruises down his side.
mackenzie came to his house the next day while he was taking a nap she sneeked in his room and gave him a quick kiss on his lips and was leaving when he awoke and asked her to sit down on his bed then he asked what she was doing at his house she said i came to see you and give you this she pulled out a candy bar by this time he was sitting up and holding her hand then he took a deep breath and said come lie in bed with me but she refused so he didnt ask again then he grabbed her arm and said lets dance so she turned on the raidio and they danced until they were wiped out and they both fell unto the bed thats when he told her its all a fake my arm isnt broke and i dont need a cast he said as he cut the cast with his jackknife then he grabbed her hands and pulled her then he striped but she didnt know it and then he forced her to do the same and he had sex and 9 months later she was giving birth while holding his hand
Just 3 years old
Riding around as if she has been doing it for years.
I don’t even think I could have taught her this
kids these days.
Its beautiful-their growth
their mystery and strength and intelligence
Both the scooter and the six-year-old had jam smeared on them, the former due to the latter, her hands unwashed since lunch, and the wheels made the same high squeal as did the child’s throat, they unoiled since the thing belonged to her father, and as he watched them both he thought of how easy it would be for both of them to tip. The father set down his coffee and followed her down the driveway.
She raced down the block, around the corner, making a full loop and coming back in front of the house. She was making a soft hooting sound the whole time and her hair was whipping back in the wind. I laughed as I sat on the stoop and watched. Where had this little girl come from? How did she have so much joy in her? I put my hands on my sides where I could still feel the stretch mark scars. She can’t be made from me. It’s not possible.
A scooter can be a lot of things it just matters where you are at like if you are at France then they should kind of be like a motercycle. If you are in america then it should be a childs toy.
Scooter are very easy to use if you have a non motorized one for you can control how fast or how slow without any falls. But sometimes if you don’t have a good sense of balance you can fall off.
The scooter got for his birthday was a shiny metal one. It was one of the motorized scooters that has a chair on that you could sit on. Which to me looks kind of hard to stay balanced.
I rode my scooter down the big hill, pressing my heel on the back wheel to slow me down every once in a while.
“scoooooota” yelled the little boy as he caressed his first loves hair and filled her loins with white sex juice.
Oh that’s a neat little thing that a scooter. I like them red, going into the small paved streets of Italy in particular. They give you a feeling of freedom. They have a scent of holidays to them. They let you go wild in the small mountain roads of Corsica. They’re all good to you.
scooter, move over. I wanna be a kid again. But then I don’t. because kids don’t really know the real world. Maybe that’s a good thing. To be cluless, have everything be new. To have so much hope inside. Old or young, you’re still you.
Scooters are an invention of man. They have been existing since ever. Eternity is the word i would describe. I haven’t owned a scooter myself but I have ridden one for sure. its a strange vehicle. Unlike a motorbike that too stylish and free scooters are more for people who don;t want to take risks.
My younger brother has been scootering for a grand total of three years now. Every time I visit he takes me outside to show me his latest trick. I’m pretty sure it’s the same trick every time. I’m pretty sure there’s only one trick you can do. It won’t get you laid, that’s for sure, but I don’t think he knows that one yet.
I was late for the biggest day of my life, already feeling at a loss for words and breath, running to the phone because my cell wasn’t charged, ruining my $300 shoes and my first Armani suit, cursing my broken down supposedly reliable Camry, feeling the heat of the moment up my spine and my savior, my salvation, my hero appears through the fog of confusion to offe me a way out of this hell – what? Really? This is what it comes down to? A fucking scooter?
Gimme the key….
I rode on my scooter and fell off
“What about a scooter?” I ask.
“Scooter is the nickname of your new maths tutor.”
“Really?” I ask, laughing in bewilderment.
“Don’t laugh!” Mum says while trying to contain laughter. “It’s rude!”
we are the authors of our own mistakes
etched in time
forgotten by the morning
an apocyolpse of mythological proportions
looking with authority through the unrealistic
terror dreams
betrayed by what we thought was apathy
scooting with the scooter
wondering if we have a destination
or if we’re in the ouroboros outer boroughs.
She watched the scooter whizz past, almost clipping her toes.
“Watch it. Fucking asshole.” she said flipping the driver off lazily. He probably didn’t even notice but it made her feel slightly better regardless.
two wheeler
The scooter shot through the traffic, a streak of brilliant red flashing through the line of older, rusted cars stopped at the light. The young man driving the scooter wasn’t wearing a helmet and his long, black hair flowed out behind him.
“I think he doesn’t want to ruin his hairdo by wearing a helmet,” my friend in the passenger seat observed.
Later, the traffic started to move again, but slowly as it avoid a red scooter in the road, its driver sprawled on the sidewalk. A silent crowd gathered around watching the unmoving scene.
once upon a time there was a talking scooter named david. he was sold at a store for items that didn’t work the way they should. david was always falling down whenever someone rode him, but little did anyone know, that david was a really great toilet plunger.
I had a scooter when I was a kit, I remember it was red and the cause of many scraped knees. My sidewalk was bumpy so i had the chance to ride it on the road like a big kid.It made me feel like an adult.
Scooter was on the muppet babies. He was a cute little guy. You also ride a scooter when you’re a kind. Scoot booty! Cost. Rest. Too. Toes. Toe. Coo. Cooter.
I rode my scooter to the skateboard park, where my crush and her grungy, black tee’d buddies were practicing their ollies and spins against the unyielding and hostile concrete. I felt like such a nerd on my beaten up metal ride, but once I snapped on my headphones and settled my back against the wire fence, I saw Lily’s shadow hover over me.
“Whatcha listenin’ to?”
Life just doesn’t want to go in one smooth direction, like riding a #scooter across the beech after a warm stormy afternoon. It has so many more moments of beauty! @oznolem