soap is clean and white it smells good it is in fight club with brad pitt he is married to angelina jolie she is a lesbian role model like shane in the l word. i dont like jenny i miss lost girl i like the succubus and the valkeri i think i am an elven decendant
but not santas evves soap is dove like the bird i like liquid soap that is anti bacterial soap that smells good attracts me that is the best way to turn my head.
I washed my feet with the black unctuous soil that was speckled and scented with cherry blossoms that showered down on me like dream rain — it’s important for me to stop and clean myself from the cleanliness of the business of adult life every once in a while with nature’s soap that lather’s the world with life. For me her soil is not dirty, it’s holy. (Miracles spring from it.)
Last item I just used. Can still smell its pungent smell on my finger. Handmade. Lumpy, but lathers well. And leaves the skin smooth. Does its job, I guess.
As Tony gathers Pepper close towards his chest, for once feeling unafraid of crushing her seemingly delicate frame; he closes his eyes, buries his face in her beautiful, disheveled red hair, and just /breathes/ for perhaps the first time that day.
She’s safe- his Pepper is safe, here, alive, /breathing/ and unharmed…and Tony can’t help but send a silent prayer of thanks towards the skies; his eyes watering with unshed tears, his throat thick with emotion as he chokes,
“God, this is worse than a soap opera.”
Pepper just gathers him close in return, and smiles.
soap. this is a funny word. just because ive been thinking about it a lot lately. been wanting to make more. i really enjoy it. sometimes more then metals. thats not right tho, but it is what it is i guess. today is just off. so nothing is what it is. when i get paid soap will get made
It slides out from my hands and lands on the blue floor of the tub. I squint and try to pick up the little green bar again but it continues to evade me. I shrug. Whatever. It can just lay there. I’ll pick it up later. If ever. Whatever. Not my house. Not my problem. Not even my own bar of soap. I lather up and let the hot water run down my shoulders. Where am I, and what have I done?
The soap suds overflowed in my hands, and I laughed. Laundry day usually wasn’t fun, but something about soap — real soap — made it all okay. Our grimy clothes would be clean for once, and the whites would be almost white and not mostly brown. Whoever had left the bars of soap by the river had no idea what a wonderful gift they had given.
Mary used extra soap on her hands after digging for her ring in the sewage. She could barely believe how gung-ho she had been to find it. But after flushing it down that public toilet, she was determined to find the end of the pipe, and then had to slog out of the reeking fecal matter toward her apartment.
Thank goodness Cindy wasn’t home, she thought to herself. To come in and think a cow died in here!
The tiny bubbles slid across her skin. They popped as she slowly smoothed her hands along her body. In the steam of the shower and the roar of the cascading water the others couldn’t see or hear her cry. She didn’t want them to ask questions.
Irish Spring is green and grandma-y. We have a lot of soaps in our bathroom. My dad uses Irish Spring. Does that mean my dad is grandma-y? I like the Nivea kind. It smells like Mango Tango Jamba Juice style. Yum.
I just wanted to wash it all away. The disgusting feelings that I felt. Hatred. Disgust. She was so much prettier, smarter….and better than me in every way. It hurt to look at her and I felt angry and I lathered the soap on my body and imagined the hatred washing away, and down the drain.
Soap. I use soap when I’m in the shower. Sometimes my mom gets the wrong kind and I smell different for about a week. And I’d rather smell like myself. I like when boys use Irish Spring Soap. I think that has a very fresh scent. Dial soap is one of my favorites. But it reminds me of hospitals. And old people. But it smells very clean and good. I’m not a fan of Axe. It smells kind of crappy.
Drop it like it’s soap. Soap slips through your fingers almost as fast as your dreams about your future. Then you will slip on it and fall to the ground. Wow, how deep of me. Getting all philosophical here.
You say you think you could be everyone.
The truth is, you don’t think you can be anyone.
The taste of soap is in my mouth, bubbles in my hair. Every time I catch that scent, I remember those words.
The soap was dropped again, letting his juices spill out all inside and outside of me. I was disgusted; I was embarrassed – but, what was there to do, really? I could only sit and stare at the wreckage on the floor, the wreckage of me.
Covered in soap, my body; her soul. I yearn for dirt on my hands as she tries to clean herself holy. But baby, love is dirty. Roll around in the mud with me.
I washed my hands with the old yellow soap. The bubble grew and grew taking over my hands. They disappeared, only to resurface every once in a while. The hot water covered the mirrors in a layer of steam, making my reflection blurred and fuzzy.
Every day in the shower i grab my perfect, strawberry soap and spread it all over my body, creating foam that fills the shower with such a pleasent smell. M skin turns soft with more soap and it makes me feel fresh and clean.
Soap on a rope makes me feel like I tied the soap up and abused it. Why is it never just soap on a nice bed or soap on a soft loofah. Half the time I feel I’m an abusive soap user..always accidentally calling it soup..its like an affair.
The soap slipped my grasp, and made a loud crash in the tub. My face turned red, and I heard a muffled laugh from downstairs. “Dropped the soap huh?” I heard him call out. I smiled as I picked it up and it slipped out from my hands again. This was going to be a long night!
Soap. Little cakes. But taste awefuul. Have you ever tried tasting soap? When you are washing your face, perhaps? If I ever invented a fantasy world, soap would taste as beautiful as it smells. Little cakes. Yes,
Don’t think. Just write. Soap. Bath. Which soap? Scented? Liquid body wash, or solid soap? I wanted a moisturizing soap. No, I needed a moisturizing soap. What I wanted was one that was rose-scented.
i was clean till he dirtied me. covered me in his sticky kisses and marred everything i had cleaned just hours before. as if he had a right, as if his age and posiiton made his dirt okay. i can never clean him off my skin.
Scents of aromatic soaps drifted from room to room, alluring me in their paths. I was suddenly interrupted by windows bleached from snow. Something about them ringed a bell in my mind. A bell I could not recognise. It continued to ring urgently, more and more every time. My thoughts were trapped in a monstrous tornado, whirling faster and faster.
i wash my hands with this
it is awsome and an alkaly. without it i would probably smell like shit.
i like its smells because ut is clean and pure. Soap is the fundamental piece for hygiene.
lathering bubbling slippery soap
lye goes in it
also assorted other poisons
it comes in a bar or a liquid form
and naughty kids get their mouth washed with it,
well, they used to.
we all need soap. soap is used to clear our exterior. you wash your hands and body with soap. What about soap for our interior? soap for the inside of us. if you ask me, we need a lot more cleaning in there. cleaning of our concience. a fresh start. internal soap is what we really need.
suds flying everywhere, bubble clusters floating onto the grass and popping in the breeze. running through the hose and sliding on the dawn-slick tarp, the soapiest joy of summer.
I use soap in the shower and when i wash dishes and now im thinking oops this is the weirdest website im not good at theses things but oh well oh well ahhhhhhhhhh soap. okay. hmm. soap reminds me of bubbles and bubbles reminds me of the talking soap in blues clues which reminds me of steve from blues clues.
Soap has a history of saponins. Using them as killers, paralyzing germs and cleaning people since the dark ages. plus it slips in the bath if you grab it properly.
Soap is a little everyday thing that we in the Western World take so much for granted. However it has been documented that it is the improvement in hygiene that has resulted in the greatest improvement in health in developed countries. Those who are less privledged, and that is teaming masses, face sickness and death everyday just because they don’t have soap. How sad!
Soap. I don’t feel squeaky clean. My ears are clogged and my heart is steeped in filth. I have seen grace and known its cooling hands working over me. But I am. Now I am and I am clogged and waiting to be moved. Waiting for something inside of me to shift and to be re-born. I am too something to want it now, but I want to want cleanness. Most of all, I want inspiration and action. I hope I’m ready.
white and soggy. Meant for cleanliness, but is always slimy and covered in bubbles. Gets in your eyes, but I can’t do without it. Sometimes it’ll slip out of my hands and fall onto the bathroom floor. I don’t like that, but i’ll forgive the soap because he didn’t know any better. And he was just trying to help.
I dropped the soap. That’s just the funniest damn joke. I don’t know if I should be more upset at myself for thinking about that stupid joke before anything else or angry at the origin of the joke. Either way I laugh at the satire of not knowing what I’m talking about at all. I’ve really no idea.
It is the substance humans use to cleanse ourselves. We wash our bodies with this and then we revel in being clean.
soap is clean and white it smells good it is in fight club with brad pitt he is married to angelina jolie she is a lesbian role model like shane in the l word. i dont like jenny i miss lost girl i like the succubus and the valkeri i think i am an elven decendant
but not santas evves soap is dove like the bird i like liquid soap that is anti bacterial soap that smells good attracts me that is the best way to turn my head.
I washed my feet with the black unctuous soil that was speckled and scented with cherry blossoms that showered down on me like dream rain — it’s important for me to stop and clean myself from the cleanliness of the business of adult life every once in a while with nature’s soap that lather’s the world with life. For me her soil is not dirty, it’s holy. (Miracles spring from it.)
Last item I just used. Can still smell its pungent smell on my finger. Handmade. Lumpy, but lathers well. And leaves the skin smooth. Does its job, I guess.
As Tony gathers Pepper close towards his chest, for once feeling unafraid of crushing her seemingly delicate frame; he closes his eyes, buries his face in her beautiful, disheveled red hair, and just /breathes/ for perhaps the first time that day.
She’s safe- his Pepper is safe, here, alive, /breathing/ and unharmed…and Tony can’t help but send a silent prayer of thanks towards the skies; his eyes watering with unshed tears, his throat thick with emotion as he chokes,
“God, this is worse than a soap opera.”
Pepper just gathers him close in return, and smiles.
soap. this is a funny word. just because ive been thinking about it a lot lately. been wanting to make more. i really enjoy it. sometimes more then metals. thats not right tho, but it is what it is i guess. today is just off. so nothing is what it is. when i get paid soap will get made
It slides out from my hands and lands on the blue floor of the tub. I squint and try to pick up the little green bar again but it continues to evade me. I shrug. Whatever. It can just lay there. I’ll pick it up later. If ever. Whatever. Not my house. Not my problem. Not even my own bar of soap. I lather up and let the hot water run down my shoulders. Where am I, and what have I done?
soap cleans our skin, it makes things smell good, and it gives us bubbles :)
The soap suds overflowed in my hands, and I laughed. Laundry day usually wasn’t fun, but something about soap — real soap — made it all okay. Our grimy clothes would be clean for once, and the whites would be almost white and not mostly brown. Whoever had left the bars of soap by the river had no idea what a wonderful gift they had given.
Mary used extra soap on her hands after digging for her ring in the sewage. She could barely believe how gung-ho she had been to find it. But after flushing it down that public toilet, she was determined to find the end of the pipe, and then had to slog out of the reeking fecal matter toward her apartment.
Thank goodness Cindy wasn’t home, she thought to herself. To come in and think a cow died in here!
The tiny bubbles slid across her skin. They popped as she slowly smoothed her hands along her body. In the steam of the shower and the roar of the cascading water the others couldn’t see or hear her cry. She didn’t want them to ask questions.
Irish Spring is green and grandma-y. We have a lot of soaps in our bathroom. My dad uses Irish Spring. Does that mean my dad is grandma-y? I like the Nivea kind. It smells like Mango Tango Jamba Juice style. Yum.
Something dad always says I use too much of.
After I shower, the excess coats the floor, a slippery trap.
But I’m not doing it on purpose.
Or am I?
I just wanted to wash it all away. The disgusting feelings that I felt. Hatred. Disgust. She was so much prettier, smarter….and better than me in every way. It hurt to look at her and I felt angry and I lathered the soap on my body and imagined the hatred washing away, and down the drain.
Soap. I use soap when I’m in the shower. Sometimes my mom gets the wrong kind and I smell different for about a week. And I’d rather smell like myself. I like when boys use Irish Spring Soap. I think that has a very fresh scent. Dial soap is one of my favorites. But it reminds me of hospitals. And old people. But it smells very clean and good. I’m not a fan of Axe. It smells kind of crappy.
Drop it like it’s soap. Soap slips through your fingers almost as fast as your dreams about your future. Then you will slip on it and fall to the ground. Wow, how deep of me. Getting all philosophical here.
You say you think you could be everyone.
The truth is, you don’t think you can be anyone.
The taste of soap is in my mouth, bubbles in my hair. Every time I catch that scent, I remember those words.
The soap was dropped again, letting his juices spill out all inside and outside of me. I was disgusted; I was embarrassed – but, what was there to do, really? I could only sit and stare at the wreckage on the floor, the wreckage of me.
Covered in soap, my body; her soul. I yearn for dirt on my hands as she tries to clean herself holy. But baby, love is dirty. Roll around in the mud with me.
I washed my hands with the old yellow soap. The bubble grew and grew taking over my hands. They disappeared, only to resurface every once in a while. The hot water covered the mirrors in a layer of steam, making my reflection blurred and fuzzy.
Every day in the shower i grab my perfect, strawberry soap and spread it all over my body, creating foam that fills the shower with such a pleasent smell. M skin turns soft with more soap and it makes me feel fresh and clean.
Soap on a rope makes me feel like I tied the soap up and abused it. Why is it never just soap on a nice bed or soap on a soft loofah. Half the time I feel I’m an abusive soap user..always accidentally calling it soup..its like an affair.
The soap slipped my grasp, and made a loud crash in the tub. My face turned red, and I heard a muffled laugh from downstairs. “Dropped the soap huh?” I heard him call out. I smiled as I picked it up and it slipped out from my hands again. This was going to be a long night!
Soap. Little cakes. But taste awefuul. Have you ever tried tasting soap? When you are washing your face, perhaps? If I ever invented a fantasy world, soap would taste as beautiful as it smells. Little cakes. Yes,
Don’t think. Just write. Soap. Bath. Which soap? Scented? Liquid body wash, or solid soap? I wanted a moisturizing soap. No, I needed a moisturizing soap. What I wanted was one that was rose-scented.
i was clean till he dirtied me. covered me in his sticky kisses and marred everything i had cleaned just hours before. as if he had a right, as if his age and posiiton made his dirt okay. i can never clean him off my skin.
Scents of aromatic soaps drifted from room to room, alluring me in their paths. I was suddenly interrupted by windows bleached from snow. Something about them ringed a bell in my mind. A bell I could not recognise. It continued to ring urgently, more and more every time. My thoughts were trapped in a monstrous tornado, whirling faster and faster.
i wash my hands with this
it is awsome and an alkaly. without it i would probably smell like shit.
i like its smells because ut is clean and pure. Soap is the fundamental piece for hygiene.
lathering bubbling slippery soap
lye goes in it
also assorted other poisons
it comes in a bar or a liquid form
and naughty kids get their mouth washed with it,
well, they used to.
we all need soap. soap is used to clear our exterior. you wash your hands and body with soap. What about soap for our interior? soap for the inside of us. if you ask me, we need a lot more cleaning in there. cleaning of our concience. a fresh start. internal soap is what we really need.
suds flying everywhere, bubble clusters floating onto the grass and popping in the breeze. running through the hose and sliding on the dawn-slick tarp, the soapiest joy of summer.
I washed her mouth out with soap.
I use soap in the shower and when i wash dishes and now im thinking oops this is the weirdest website im not good at theses things but oh well oh well ahhhhhhhhhh soap. okay. hmm. soap reminds me of bubbles and bubbles reminds me of the talking soap in blues clues which reminds me of steve from blues clues.
Soap has a history of saponins. Using them as killers, paralyzing germs and cleaning people since the dark ages. plus it slips in the bath if you grab it properly.
clean pink fresh. Chalk. Hope. Morning. Awake.
Soap is a little everyday thing that we in the Western World take so much for granted. However it has been documented that it is the improvement in hygiene that has resulted in the greatest improvement in health in developed countries. Those who are less privledged, and that is teaming masses, face sickness and death everyday just because they don’t have soap. How sad!
Soap. I don’t feel squeaky clean. My ears are clogged and my heart is steeped in filth. I have seen grace and known its cooling hands working over me. But I am. Now I am and I am clogged and waiting to be moved. Waiting for something inside of me to shift and to be re-born. I am too something to want it now, but I want to want cleanness. Most of all, I want inspiration and action. I hope I’m ready.
The only thing that cleans without getting itself dirty in the process.
white and soggy. Meant for cleanliness, but is always slimy and covered in bubbles. Gets in your eyes, but I can’t do without it. Sometimes it’ll slip out of my hands and fall onto the bathroom floor. I don’t like that, but i’ll forgive the soap because he didn’t know any better. And he was just trying to help.
I dropped the soap. That’s just the funniest damn joke. I don’t know if I should be more upset at myself for thinking about that stupid joke before anything else or angry at the origin of the joke. Either way I laugh at the satire of not knowing what I’m talking about at all. I’ve really no idea.