The drinks are always the one who end up being weapons of mass party destruction. A spiked punch bowl would cause massive damage and thus resulting in monstrous fun and stupidity.
The spikes she wore all over her body were a outward reminder to those around her, that as much as they may love her, she had her defenses up. And if you didn’t see it immediately, you should know that her tongue could give you a verbal lashing at the blink of an eye.
Out of whatever the flowers intended to mean, she could only see the clear threat; with the blood tainted color and the sharp thorns they were surely the worst gift to receive.
Spike. The name of a vampire on Buffy. Tortured soul, that loves a woman who won’t love him. He’s her dog, on a leash. It is a fitting name for him. British. Sexy. There isn’t much else to say.
There is a thorn in my side. A spear that I cannot get rid of. It stabs me in the night and keeps me awake. I can not get rid of it, no matter what I do. I just want to be rid of this spike. It intrudes on my life and keeps me from anything.
SPike was the name of one of my classmates at xchool. She was tall and thin and nervous and religious. She wanted to be a medical missionary. When we left school she went to nursing school, but quit I think because she didn’t like the blood. Or was it that she went to Africa and quit because she didn’t like the blood. I don’t remember.
it hurt the spike, rammed into her thigh. Why had she decided to climb the tree? nobody could see her, stuck there. It was too far behind the terrace of houses. Could she bear to look down? She tried looking out of the corner of her eye. OK, managed that bit. Now a bit more. She turned her head slightly. There was a lot of blood flowing in all directions, like erupted lava.
Spikes can hit to the heart.
And they often do.
More often than not they’re only in the feelings we have, but they feel real.
The best thing to do is to survive through it, and make the best you can.
spike milligan had spiked drinks with spike the dog. his hair was spiky as a procupine, something which bikies with leather jackets adored. his eyes were full of spite. what the hell is pike? i feel like some pikelets…
spppppaaaaaaikeeeee
spike
Ah, the spike. That sudden increase in electrical tension that has the potential of ruining your beloved appliances. Or perhaps that sudden moment in a horror flick when the beautiful blonde looks in the mirror and discovers there is an ax murderer behind her.
As john was running down the playground tossing the ball to himself not noticing that he had almost tripped and fell on the spikes that were coming out of the ground, ‘whew that was close’ he thought as he sidestepped them and continued on his merry way.
She stuck her spiked heals into my soul and stomped on everything I thought was real. She was a vixen, red with desire, and I was green with envy. She was everything I wanted to be, everything I could never be. She can crush my holy enigma with her little high heels, she better fucking think twice.
Treading through the snow, a crisp sponge
I notice a break in the blanket
an iron spike, frigid and upright
a lone man made point amongst the plain
I feel the sharpened edge too late to stop
the red drop onto, through the white
and spread out, like a dead speck in an egg
cracked too early and too late
For the whole day, Deviant ran around unaware of the one random cowlick on her head since everyone else was too busy quietly laughing to tell her about it.
She screamed in agony as the spike of his rejected pierced her. It was as though it were a physical object, searing the wound as it went, pain amplified by the humiliation that accompanied it. He smirked, and she closed her eyes, afraid to see his thoughts written plainly across his face.
dreams have gone up lately. these spikes of emotion and creativity, i awoke rushed into the next scene, this one named “waking life”. i take things slow, preparing for another rush of phantasm and mystery.
Today I spiked my hair. I felt this would represent the spikes i would throw down at the v-ball game. However, my game was a litle off because last night some1 had spiked the punch at the party. this spiked punch led me to spike a football right in some tricks face. I felt this to be an issue since i am not a violent person so this inturn spiked my reputation. I felt to releave this anger i should put on a movie. I felt a spike jonze movie was in order. However his contraversal nature didn’t fulfil my satisfation, so i had to put on a spike jonze film. This did it for me i was able to realax. I decided to reflect upon my experience. This led to writing about it. I felt that it needed some type of illustration as well so, I started to use microsoft word. I was then dismantled because the spike feature (an extended clipboard feature). This frusturated and angered me. These counterproductive actions led me to intoxicate myself with yet again another spiked drink (this time purposfully spiked). In my state of intoxication I yet again spiked another female. this time it wasn’t with a football. No, I spiked her with the only tool i had. I did this right after playing an inhebreated game of baseball. So ironically i was wearing a pair of baseball spikes. I don’t know if my female counterpart consented to her spiking because of the spikes i was wearing or the fact that my hair was spiked. Eitherway my experince of spiked left me emotionally distraught. To help me cope with this i opened up a bar where others who had felt rath of being spiked (in any sense of the word) could come and openly share there feelings. In contrast to the nature of this bar i found that people were spiking others drinks . This became a common practice at the bar so i guess one could say that it was a spiker bar.
Spike is not like that spoke, it’s voice is delicate and moving not coarse and static. Even though we never talk he’s always there, moving in the back ground-feeling the moment. Being one with it, flourishing in it’s wonders.
On top of Mount Shasta, Dr. Malevolo pointed his death ray toward Sam Savior. He backed up toward his hovercraftocopter, where Brenda was already tied to the luggage rack. With a cackle, he taunted, “it looks like the ‘hero’ doesn’t always win in the end!” As he sat in the cockpit and revved the motor, the windshield suddenly erupted in a fireworks display. He just couldn’t stay conscious with that spiked heel embedded in the back of his head.
You know, I found myself abroad, limp cigarette, heavy trudge, wet-dog smell because of the rain, and surrounded. And if the light artillery in my left chest wasn’t heavy enough, the gun powder smell left me feeling more dead than before. One side blind, other side weak. Julia.
Every mood goes through spikes. That is the nature of moods. One would think that spikes are bad, but really.. can you imagine living your life without feeling the beauty of the extreme bliss or the terror of extreme fear?
Jimmy picked up a stray railroad spike that lay at his feet and idly rolled it around in the palm of his hand. He liked how solid it felt and how it seemed to have a heft that betrayed its size. As he slid it into his left pocket, he whispered a word of thanks to the depot for leaving it for him to find.
My dog Spik-E is a robot dog. I call him Spik-E because he has a spike on his head. Sometimes, when he goes to lick his crotch, as dogs do from time to time, he pokes his manhoo–er, doghood. There are a few kinks to work out in his current design.
the steel hurt. I once felt it. I dont know, its hard to feel things anymore, but maybe thats me. Maybe its because of everything…a spike in boredom, and valley of shadows….dont
Spike the ball, dammit. Spike it over the net or there is no hope. There is no hope because this isn’t a manga. This is real life. This is your real life and your real gym class where everyone frequently laughs at you. Today, for once, try not to deserve it. Please?
your drinks. the ball. anything – just spike it. the tent into the ground and the stakes into that bastard’s heart – metaphorically speaking of course ;] whatever you do, just don’t let it happen to you.
Spike, the dog. A memorable character from the Tom and Jerry cartoons. He always seemed to be doing something important that the antics of Tom and Jerry would interrupt; however, Tom always seemed unfairly blamed. Poor Spike, never being able to finish his doghouse or eat his steak or bury his bone. He never really got a moment’s peace.
I want a spike. Whether we’re talking a celebratory dance as I dash the burden, that I carried through grasping arms and lunging obstacles, to the ground and leap above it in victory; or taking it through the heart in a ribcage crushing blow. Give me the definitive result, no matter which way it goes.
He drove the spike into my heart. I didnt feel a thing. What was there was gone. Lost to time and heartache. Nothing is left anymore. All that remained was a hollow shell that I once called home. I miss my home. I want to go back.
knife a fork, anything sharp what do you think of when i say spike? somethig sharp, dead, blood, something that enters, something that is then pulled out, something that does not let you enter. a spike.
As quickly as it had hit his hands, he slammed it into the ground. Spiking the ball was the only way to keep the drive going. Seven seconds left; the sweat trickled down his face like a tear.
Reminds me of the days when I’d sit on the maroon colored carpet with my brother watching X-Men at one in the morning. He wasn’t our favorite character, but he was part of the story nonetheless.
The man spiked the ball as hard as he could. He shouted into the face of his competion and gloated over the victory. It was short lived though and was overshadowed by a punch in the face.
In every castle, up on the ceilings of every dungeon, at the bottom of every pitfall, and at the end of every mace. What’s up with all the spikes?
The drinks are always the one who end up being weapons of mass party destruction. A spiked punch bowl would cause massive damage and thus resulting in monstrous fun and stupidity.
The spikes she wore all over her body were a outward reminder to those around her, that as much as they may love her, she had her defenses up. And if you didn’t see it immediately, you should know that her tongue could give you a verbal lashing at the blink of an eye.
Out of whatever the flowers intended to mean, she could only see the clear threat; with the blood tainted color and the sharp thorns they were surely the worst gift to receive.
Spike. The name of a vampire on Buffy. Tortured soul, that loves a woman who won’t love him. He’s her dog, on a leash. It is a fitting name for him. British. Sexy. There isn’t much else to say.
There is a thorn in my side. A spear that I cannot get rid of. It stabs me in the night and keeps me awake. I can not get rid of it, no matter what I do. I just want to be rid of this spike. It intrudes on my life and keeps me from anything.
SPike was the name of one of my classmates at xchool. She was tall and thin and nervous and religious. She wanted to be a medical missionary. When we left school she went to nursing school, but quit I think because she didn’t like the blood. Or was it that she went to Africa and quit because she didn’t like the blood. I don’t remember.
it hurt the spike, rammed into her thigh. Why had she decided to climb the tree? nobody could see her, stuck there. It was too far behind the terrace of houses. Could she bear to look down? She tried looking out of the corner of her eye. OK, managed that bit. Now a bit more. She turned her head slightly. There was a lot of blood flowing in all directions, like erupted lava.
Spikes can hit to the heart.
And they often do.
More often than not they’re only in the feelings we have, but they feel real.
The best thing to do is to survive through it, and make the best you can.
A good cigarette is a formidable ally.
spike milligan had spiked drinks with spike the dog. his hair was spiky as a procupine, something which bikies with leather jackets adored. his eyes were full of spite. what the hell is pike? i feel like some pikelets…
spppppaaaaaaikeeeee
spike
spikes can be dangerous or fun, depending on where you are coming from.
Ah, the spike. That sudden increase in electrical tension that has the potential of ruining your beloved appliances. Or perhaps that sudden moment in a horror flick when the beautiful blonde looks in the mirror and discovers there is an ax murderer behind her.
As john was running down the playground tossing the ball to himself not noticing that he had almost tripped and fell on the spikes that were coming out of the ground, ‘whew that was close’ he thought as he sidestepped them and continued on his merry way.
Tough, sharp, threatening. They haunt me, tease me, say, “Look, we’re right here, just waiting for you to screw up.”
They’ve already got me. I’m torn, bleeding, ruined.
I don’t know what to do.
She stuck her spiked heals into my soul and stomped on everything I thought was real. She was a vixen, red with desire, and I was green with envy. She was everything I wanted to be, everything I could never be. She can crush my holy enigma with her little high heels, she better fucking think twice.
Treading through the snow, a crisp sponge
I notice a break in the blanket
an iron spike, frigid and upright
a lone man made point amongst the plain
I feel the sharpened edge too late to stop
the red drop onto, through the white
and spread out, like a dead speck in an egg
cracked too early and too late
For the whole day, Deviant ran around unaware of the one random cowlick on her head since everyone else was too busy quietly laughing to tell her about it.
She screamed in agony as the spike of his rejected pierced her. It was as though it were a physical object, searing the wound as it went, pain amplified by the humiliation that accompanied it. He smirked, and she closed her eyes, afraid to see his thoughts written plainly across his face.
dreams have gone up lately. these spikes of emotion and creativity, i awoke rushed into the next scene, this one named “waking life”. i take things slow, preparing for another rush of phantasm and mystery.
So many things come to mind. Railroad. Punch. Hair. A rowdy, unruly juvenile. All good. None bad, just spiked.
Today I spiked my hair. I felt this would represent the spikes i would throw down at the v-ball game. However, my game was a litle off because last night some1 had spiked the punch at the party. this spiked punch led me to spike a football right in some tricks face. I felt this to be an issue since i am not a violent person so this inturn spiked my reputation. I felt to releave this anger i should put on a movie. I felt a spike jonze movie was in order. However his contraversal nature didn’t fulfil my satisfation, so i had to put on a spike jonze film. This did it for me i was able to realax. I decided to reflect upon my experience. This led to writing about it. I felt that it needed some type of illustration as well so, I started to use microsoft word. I was then dismantled because the spike feature (an extended clipboard feature). This frusturated and angered me. These counterproductive actions led me to intoxicate myself with yet again another spiked drink (this time purposfully spiked). In my state of intoxication I yet again spiked another female. this time it wasn’t with a football. No, I spiked her with the only tool i had. I did this right after playing an inhebreated game of baseball. So ironically i was wearing a pair of baseball spikes. I don’t know if my female counterpart consented to her spiking because of the spikes i was wearing or the fact that my hair was spiked. Eitherway my experince of spiked left me emotionally distraught. To help me cope with this i opened up a bar where others who had felt rath of being spiked (in any sense of the word) could come and openly share there feelings. In contrast to the nature of this bar i found that people were spiking others drinks . This became a common practice at the bar so i guess one could say that it was a spiker bar.
Spike is not like that spoke, it’s voice is delicate and moving not coarse and static. Even though we never talk he’s always there, moving in the back ground-feeling the moment. Being one with it, flourishing in it’s wonders.
On top of Mount Shasta, Dr. Malevolo pointed his death ray toward Sam Savior. He backed up toward his hovercraftocopter, where Brenda was already tied to the luggage rack. With a cackle, he taunted, “it looks like the ‘hero’ doesn’t always win in the end!” As he sat in the cockpit and revved the motor, the windshield suddenly erupted in a fireworks display. He just couldn’t stay conscious with that spiked heel embedded in the back of his head.
You know, I found myself abroad, limp cigarette, heavy trudge, wet-dog smell because of the rain, and surrounded. And if the light artillery in my left chest wasn’t heavy enough, the gun powder smell left me feeling more dead than before. One side blind, other side weak. Julia.
Every mood goes through spikes. That is the nature of moods. One would think that spikes are bad, but really.. can you imagine living your life without feeling the beauty of the extreme bliss or the terror of extreme fear?
Jimmy picked up a stray railroad spike that lay at his feet and idly rolled it around in the palm of his hand. He liked how solid it felt and how it seemed to have a heft that betrayed its size. As he slid it into his left pocket, he whispered a word of thanks to the depot for leaving it for him to find.
Spike v. Pike:
——————
10″ – 15″
My dog Spik-E is a robot dog. I call him Spik-E because he has a spike on his head. Sometimes, when he goes to lick his crotch, as dogs do from time to time, he pokes his manhoo–er, doghood. There are a few kinks to work out in his current design.
SPIKESPIKESPIKE
Sometimes, People I Kinda Engage Somewhat Politically with See People I Kinda Engaged Somewhat Politically with Seconds Prior. I Know Everyone.
the steel hurt. I once felt it. I dont know, its hard to feel things anymore, but maybe thats me. Maybe its because of everything…a spike in boredom, and valley of shadows….dont
Spike hair, that stands up and the wind may never break. Damageable hair, that spikes its way through the wind. Beautiful spike thorns on a rose.
Spike the ball, dammit. Spike it over the net or there is no hope. There is no hope because this isn’t a manga. This is real life. This is your real life and your real gym class where everyone frequently laughs at you. Today, for once, try not to deserve it. Please?
your drinks. the ball. anything – just spike it. the tent into the ground and the stakes into that bastard’s heart – metaphorically speaking of course ;] whatever you do, just don’t let it happen to you.
Spike, the dog. A memorable character from the Tom and Jerry cartoons. He always seemed to be doing something important that the antics of Tom and Jerry would interrupt; however, Tom always seemed unfairly blamed. Poor Spike, never being able to finish his doghouse or eat his steak or bury his bone. He never really got a moment’s peace.
I want a spike. Whether we’re talking a celebratory dance as I dash the burden, that I carried through grasping arms and lunging obstacles, to the ground and leap above it in victory; or taking it through the heart in a ribcage crushing blow. Give me the definitive result, no matter which way it goes.
He drove the spike into my heart. I didnt feel a thing. What was there was gone. Lost to time and heartache. Nothing is left anymore. All that remained was a hollow shell that I once called home. I miss my home. I want to go back.
knife a fork, anything sharp what do you think of when i say spike? somethig sharp, dead, blood, something that enters, something that is then pulled out, something that does not let you enter. a spike.
As quickly as it had hit his hands, he slammed it into the ground. Spiking the ball was the only way to keep the drive going. Seven seconds left; the sweat trickled down his face like a tear.
Reminds me of the days when I’d sit on the maroon colored carpet with my brother watching X-Men at one in the morning. He wasn’t our favorite character, but he was part of the story nonetheless.
The man spiked the ball as hard as he could. He shouted into the face of his competion and gloated over the victory. It was short lived though and was overshadowed by a punch in the face.