the act of hitting the ball into the ground exceptionally hard and fast during volleyball.
something very pointy and can hurt badly if touched.
a television channel
a way to make a roadblock
it came up from the ground, blowing in the wind. feet walking by, shoes trampling its neighbors. standing strong against its opposition, never faltering, always just out of reach of bad luck. green with envy it’s friends fall.
The spikey haired kid walked across the street without looking both ways. He was headed toward the piercing shop, even though he was too young to get anything pierced. But he was fully prepared to argue for his right to put multiple holes in his face.
I like to eat spikes. They’re cool. Food. Yum. Lalalalaa.. They’re yummy and sharp and yucky too and metallic and stuff and watery and juicy. =alalsdfjk; Yum. Lalala. Sharpness. Metallic. Yum! Fun. Food. Yum. Spikes are yummy! YUMMMMMM and Tadase has spikey hair!
Spikes are very painful things if you kand on them. There are spikes on fences to keep badies out and stop big bears getting in. Spike Milligan was a famous writer.
I like spikes. No i dont. It can hurt me and I dont like that. It can mean people are mean or that they hate the world or that they want to stand out or that they want to do all this because they dont know who they are. that hurts. that’s kinda like me. I dont know who i am. its hard to live when you feel invisible even to yourself. am i depressed? should i talk to a doctor? ya. i knew this message would go this way–in a life or death consulting kinda deal. whatever. i should get over myself. i need my bro. i need real friends.
wow that is the coolest spike ever your so cool to have one i wish i had one wanna trade where did you get it i wanna go buy one can you tell me so i can have one just like yours.
They knew him as the guy who wore spikes in his ears and had colored hair a different shade every week. But inside, he was not the person he was on the outside. He longed to be accepted for himself, for who he decided to be.
Chester bounced out of the jetway and trotted off to make his connecting flight. About midway to his gate, out of the corner of one big brown eye, he caught sight of an old dog what looked just like his ol’ idol, Spike, sittin’ on a bar stool in one of the seediest airport bars he’d ever seen, and he’d seen ‘em all. He full out ran over to the stool and sure ‘nuff. The hair on his back bristled. He smacked Spike’s drunk self hard right off his bar stool and barked, That’s for all the years you smacked me down when all I wanted was to chase cats with you, you shitass mofo. A smile spread across his chops and he bounded away to catch his flight.
Yeah, I wrote longer than one minute… Just had to finish this story…
the bulldog is named spike, at least I think it is. I don’t have any school spirit at all. How can you be loyal to a bulldog, especially one with no connection?
I’d never seen a nail that big. It wasn’t so much a nail as a spike. It was just nail shaped. It was on the floor of the garage where I was kneeling, blood dripping from my mouth and nose. I knew that when I got up, the beating would continue, but that was before I found the spike.
Adam lunged through the air. The volleyball felt hard, cold, and a little rough as the skin and fat of his thumb wrapped around it. He pressed hard, muscles burning in his arm as he slammed the sphere towards the hot sand.
It was a spike driven through my spine. A burning that filled my chest and worked its way up to my head.
I knew it before i really understood what had happened.
I would never walk again
She stood two feet tall, mostly skin and bones, and strode into the orphanage all moxy and laughter. The other children took an instant liking to her, though few showed it; they had learned that over emotion could get you hurt.
On the day-bed, all the other children simply hopped onto the shared mattress. Not the new girl; she would run and jump, as if spiking some invisible volleyball … and fall, hard. She never got a blood nose … but she never made it onto the bed unassisted either.
The first time someone called her Spike, she didn’t respond; nobody else had ever told her she was clumsy and she never asked; here, you got named quick, and once the name stuck, she loved it – it gave her a kind of home.
Every one of us, no matter how jaded, warmed up to Spike within two months.
She seemed to tap into that little bit of joy you never let go.
The spikes were prominent on his armour. His eyes were as hard and dangerous as the spikes. I barely recognised his face, for it was set with seriosity that I had never seen him employ before. I was scared.
Spike! The dog from Tom and Jerry, The hardened Vampire with an English accent from Buffy; the demise of Mr Stringer in Hot Fuzz. Spike – I heart all your variations!
It’s lips pulled back, folding over as it bared a menacing set of yellowing, saliva-dripping fangs. Fur along its shoulders and back bristled furiously. A shining, silver bone-shaped tag hung delicately from the collar about its neck. What it read? Spike.
“I can’t see it!” she cried, scraping her hands on the rough rail. “We’ll hit it for sure!”
“It’s a big black spike in the water, Sophie! If you pay attention, it’s difficult to miss!” her grandfather shouted back. “Rich, drop the books and take over for her.”
sharp thing that can hurt you, keep away from them. bad things happen when you are around them. or it could be a dog named spike! i love dogs they are nice. and pretty and fun to play with . but yes spikes are bad.
I will need to spike my minute with the word ‘fossil’ which i didn’t get to writing about yesterday. I am so spiked about it. And have time left. Uninspired?
it’s the pillars on King Koopa’s back.
the things that live at the bottom of pits.
a popular dogs name.
maybe even a cat.
it’s the thing that keep rail lines together.
but then again,
i’m not here to judge.
if you truly ever want to meet someone excentric, make sure their name is spike. it doesn’t have to be their real name, just as long as that’s the name they go by. This will ensure a wide variety of ecclectic habits and behaviors attributed to Spike, making everything very exciting.
It felt like steel spikes were being jammed through her skull. The pain was incredible. But she was alive. She never once forgot that it could be worse. Yes, death had to be worse than this, or she wouldn’t still be hanging on to life.
lets go, spike.
meet my friend mike.
last night he told me to take a hike.
He hiked with all his might.
Sadly, he took a fall.
and landed on his balls.
there was something about the sand between my toes
and the tingle of the sun on my back,
that struck me with courage,
and turned me invincible
to defeat.
it was november,
i was in puppy love,
and setting and spiking
was the ultimate display of affection.
i already wrote about the word spike, but i really enjoy Spike TV. they have a lot of quality programming, namely the rights to UFC. that is the best. i love sweaty men grappling each other into submission.
As the spikes on the monitor became shallow and chaotic, I looked to the fluorescent lights above me one final time. I thought that if I just watched them flicker with the utmost resolve; never blinking, never wavering, then perhaps my heart would spike with the same fire and life as the electric hum coursing through that light’s veins. The question was never what I would die for, it was what I wouldn’t give to live.
When the spike drove through me I thought I was dreaming. It was like the sputtering sounds coming from my own lips were that of a dying car. I was immortal how could I possibly be in this much pain? The facts were against me and I was dying.
spike in my eye on my clothes. spike the dog runs around chassing the mail man. who, incidentily name isnt spike. there are spikes in the dollar, spikes in oil, but there arent spikes in the presidents head
The dynamics of the music quickly changed, as it went to a lullaby to an intense harsh melody. the spike in the music hit me hard and i was moved to dance. the great thing about music is that when it hits you, you feel not pain.
the act of hitting the ball into the ground exceptionally hard and fast during volleyball.
something very pointy and can hurt badly if touched.
a television channel
a way to make a roadblock
it came up from the ground, blowing in the wind. feet walking by, shoes trampling its neighbors. standing strong against its opposition, never faltering, always just out of reach of bad luck. green with envy it’s friends fall.
The spikey haired kid walked across the street without looking both ways. He was headed toward the piercing shop, even though he was too young to get anything pierced. But he was fully prepared to argue for his right to put multiple holes in his face.
I like to eat spikes. They’re cool. Food. Yum. Lalalalaa.. They’re yummy and sharp and yucky too and metallic and stuff and watery and juicy. =alalsdfjk; Yum. Lalala. Sharpness. Metallic. Yum! Fun. Food. Yum. Spikes are yummy! YUMMMMMM and Tadase has spikey hair!
Spikes are very painful things if you kand on them. There are spikes on fences to keep badies out and stop big bears getting in. Spike Milligan was a famous writer.
spike is a film director,,
surname is lee
came from japan
i wish I had more info about directors
and there is a guy called bruce
brother of spike
I like spikes. No i dont. It can hurt me and I dont like that. It can mean people are mean or that they hate the world or that they want to stand out or that they want to do all this because they dont know who they are. that hurts. that’s kinda like me. I dont know who i am. its hard to live when you feel invisible even to yourself. am i depressed? should i talk to a doctor? ya. i knew this message would go this way–in a life or death consulting kinda deal. whatever. i should get over myself. i need my bro. i need real friends.
Sharp and painful, slowly pushing its way through her flesh. She cried out in pain and the walls closed in on her, covered in spikes.
wow that is the coolest spike ever your so cool to have one i wish i had one wanna trade where did you get it i wanna go buy one can you tell me so i can have one just like yours.
They knew him as the guy who wore spikes in his ears and had colored hair a different shade every week. But inside, he was not the person he was on the outside. He longed to be accepted for himself, for who he decided to be.
Chester bounced out of the jetway and trotted off to make his connecting flight. About midway to his gate, out of the corner of one big brown eye, he caught sight of an old dog what looked just like his ol’ idol, Spike, sittin’ on a bar stool in one of the seediest airport bars he’d ever seen, and he’d seen ‘em all. He full out ran over to the stool and sure ‘nuff. The hair on his back bristled. He smacked Spike’s drunk self hard right off his bar stool and barked, That’s for all the years you smacked me down when all I wanted was to chase cats with you, you shitass mofo. A smile spread across his chops and he bounded away to catch his flight.
Yeah, I wrote longer than one minute… Just had to finish this story…
the bulldog is named spike, at least I think it is. I don’t have any school spirit at all. How can you be loyal to a bulldog, especially one with no connection?
I’d never seen a nail that big. It wasn’t so much a nail as a spike. It was just nail shaped. It was on the floor of the garage where I was kneeling, blood dripping from my mouth and nose. I knew that when I got up, the beating would continue, but that was before I found the spike.
Adam lunged through the air. The volleyball felt hard, cold, and a little rough as the skin and fat of his thumb wrapped around it. He pressed hard, muscles burning in his arm as he slammed the sphere towards the hot sand.
Don’t spike the punch. That sucks.
It was a spike driven through my spine. A burning that filled my chest and worked its way up to my head.
I knew it before i really understood what had happened.
I would never walk again
They called her Spike.
She stood two feet tall, mostly skin and bones, and strode into the orphanage all moxy and laughter. The other children took an instant liking to her, though few showed it; they had learned that over emotion could get you hurt.
On the day-bed, all the other children simply hopped onto the shared mattress. Not the new girl; she would run and jump, as if spiking some invisible volleyball … and fall, hard. She never got a blood nose … but she never made it onto the bed unassisted either.
The first time someone called her Spike, she didn’t respond; nobody else had ever told her she was clumsy and she never asked; here, you got named quick, and once the name stuck, she loved it – it gave her a kind of home.
Every one of us, no matter how jaded, warmed up to Spike within two months.
She seemed to tap into that little bit of joy you never let go.
And she wouldn’t
The spikes were prominent on his armour. His eyes were as hard and dangerous as the spikes. I barely recognised his face, for it was set with seriosity that I had never seen him employ before. I was scared.
Spike! The dog from Tom and Jerry, The hardened Vampire with an English accent from Buffy; the demise of Mr Stringer in Hot Fuzz. Spike – I heart all your variations!
It’s lips pulled back, folding over as it bared a menacing set of yellowing, saliva-dripping fangs. Fur along its shoulders and back bristled furiously. A shining, silver bone-shaped tag hung delicately from the collar about its neck. What it read? Spike.
“I can’t see it!” she cried, scraping her hands on the rough rail. “We’ll hit it for sure!”
“It’s a big black spike in the water, Sophie! If you pay attention, it’s difficult to miss!” her grandfather shouted back. “Rich, drop the books and take over for her.”
sharp thing that can hurt you, keep away from them. bad things happen when you are around them. or it could be a dog named spike! i love dogs they are nice. and pretty and fun to play with . but yes spikes are bad.
As I saw the man spike the tennis ball down, I knew he was a rookie. Tennis is about keeping control of the ball, not hitting it as hard as you can.
I will need to spike my minute with the word ‘fossil’ which i didn’t get to writing about yesterday. I am so spiked about it. And have time left. Uninspired?
it’s the pillars on King Koopa’s back.
the things that live at the bottom of pits.
a popular dogs name.
maybe even a cat.
it’s the thing that keep rail lines together.
but then again,
i’m not here to judge.
if you truly ever want to meet someone excentric, make sure their name is spike. it doesn’t have to be their real name, just as long as that’s the name they go by. This will ensure a wide variety of ecclectic habits and behaviors attributed to Spike, making everything very exciting.
Of splinters and needles, spikes penetrate my skin like those kisses you used to gave me.
It felt like steel spikes were being jammed through her skull. The pain was incredible. But she was alive. She never once forgot that it could be worse. Yes, death had to be worse than this, or she wouldn’t still be hanging on to life.
lets go, spike.
meet my friend mike.
last night he told me to take a hike.
He hiked with all his might.
Sadly, he took a fall.
and landed on his balls.
sharp as death makes it think its not even there so smooth but no that good.
there was something about the sand between my toes
and the tingle of the sun on my back,
that struck me with courage,
and turned me invincible
to defeat.
it was november,
i was in puppy love,
and setting and spiking
was the ultimate display of affection.
be mine?
Bump, spike, hit. Bump, spike, hit. Focus, focus. My arms strain for height, and my legs push for air.
i already wrote about the word spike, but i really enjoy Spike TV. they have a lot of quality programming, namely the rights to UFC. that is the best. i love sweaty men grappling each other into submission.
As the spikes on the monitor became shallow and chaotic, I looked to the fluorescent lights above me one final time. I thought that if I just watched them flicker with the utmost resolve; never blinking, never wavering, then perhaps my heart would spike with the same fire and life as the electric hum coursing through that light’s veins. The question was never what I would die for, it was what I wouldn’t give to live.
When the spike drove through me I thought I was dreaming. It was like the sputtering sounds coming from my own lips were that of a dying car. I was immortal how could I possibly be in this much pain? The facts were against me and I was dying.
spike in my eye on my clothes. spike the dog runs around chassing the mail man. who, incidentily name isnt spike. there are spikes in the dollar, spikes in oil, but there arent spikes in the presidents head
spike was a clever man. Always got himself into trouble with his girlfriend Maggie age 20 who up until this point loved him
The dynamics of the music quickly changed, as it went to a lullaby to an intense harsh melody. the spike in the music hit me hard and i was moved to dance. the great thing about music is that when it hits you, you feel not pain.
pointy sharp silver metal on top of a fence name of a boy spiky hair impaled on top of it in a park lying dangerously
The spike of a human being is their perfect personality, the one they do not follow; comprehend or even know of. An elusive stalagmite among many.