I got a bottle of acid. Nothing special. Just acid/ Poured it to the sponge like the guy in that Youtube video. The sponge was in a sink. I poured it there. Who cares if I can’t clean it up. I want some revenge on the thing that cause kids to laugh like Spongebob.
I love those natural yellow sponges or whatever they are, we sell some similar ones at work, oh god. Work is like a sponge it sucks in my good mood so I’m left feeling like crap, as usual. I hate it, I hate it.
His mind was a sponge, absorbing any and all information he could. He worked day and night, trying and succeeding in learning every last word definition in the English Dictionary. This was his life, and he hated it.
I soak up knowledge like a sponge. What happens when I do? I become superwoman and get energized to take on new tasks. Unfortunately these tasks often get me in trouble, for instance take the time that a lady in black leather came into my office and asked me to help her find the necklace that her great-grandmother left her.
The cake looked pretty, it a sponge cake , it has a firm body, and it do not taste too sweet. when I first taste it , I thought that some one had made a mistake when they were making it.
She was on the floor, soaking up every little piece of blood that strayed. The floor was cold and hard, and on it her bony legs trembled with each little shuffle she made. It was almost a custom now, as if she knew she should be prepared. The steps were as followed: get home, watch him drink, hear him shout, shout back, he’ll shout back louder, he’ll fight, then he’ll put himself in a self induced sleep. She’s been moping up blood for far too long, in fact, she marveled at how much blood she had in herself.
One day this will stop she promised herself, this all will go away and you won’t be on your knees any longer. But talk is cheap when you’re scared of your own home. But it wasn’t exactly a home either, it couldn’t be could it? Whatever the hell it was, she hated it.
But for the days she was only the girl with the sponge, slowly moping up the blood that kept her alive.
who lives in a pineapple under the sea?
absorbant,
and yellow,
and porous is he.
if nautical nonsense be something you wish
then drop on the deck
and flop like a fish
I soak up the sun like nature built me to. I tilt my head making sure every petal spreads as it receives its lover with arms wide open. My seeds, our children, laugh and grow in my center. My leaves know life as the morning turns to dawn.
she liked to think that she was a sponge, absorbing everything she found important; to be who she wanted to be, slowly absorbing bits from people who inspired her.
She sucks up the mess with a calculated ease. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. If only the rest of her life was this straight forward. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and-
He was like a little sponge, sitting there listening to everythinkg that the teacher had to say. I was so relieved … this was his first day of school, and I was afraid that he would not fit in, that he would want to come right back home.
And I threw down that sponge. Not because I was sick of cleaning, but because I was sick of this life. I was tired of being used and being other people’s burdens and being blamed. And I was also sick of scrubbing the left overs off of their damn plates.
Sponge is under the Kingdom Animalia, Phylum Porifera. OMG! It reminded me of my Biology midterm exam. I hope I get a good grade! My brain turned into a spongy sap when I took that exam!!!!!
I am a sponge for emotions. I just absorb everything in the air around me and I hold it in for ages and ages. I become so saturated sometimes, that I can’t even begin to process what it is that I’m feeling anymore, and it leaves me with a sense of numbness that I can’t ignore. I don’t know what to do when I feel like this. I don’t have anyone to turn to. More often than not, whenever I find that I need help the most, I am alone.
scrub the bathroom sink
spray the kitchen countertops with disinfectant then rub
wash the car
put on make-up
use with soap to clean body in shower
wipe up spills
Sponge makes me think clean thoughts.
I live on a new road, where my street is filled with discarded refuse and the streets smell of rice and curry at 1AM on a Thursday. I take it in like Oxygen, thinking of you somehow, in the remnants of lingering paprika and red pepper, recalling nights spent in the kitchen of Cambridge, were we cooked stir fry and drank PBR, dancing to Colliw Buddz against the walls of your childhood memories. I see you now, bruised from your bike accident, shirtless in the heat, listening to hip hop and making beats, even as I lay here in my room of wooden furniture and astrological tapestries painted blue, wishing you were here, knowing that it would only be in nostalgia and for comfort, but accepting that easy familiarity as simply as taking another sip of whiskey…
Absorbancy like soil in the ways which we kill one another. Blood for blood, foils for one another, my antithesis is you. Your Aryan ways mock my Celtic recall, with our savagery in heated passion of blows to mouth, to breast, to loin. Our bodies brawl in bars and bottles emptied, the undeniable warfare of our warranted hate abated by the love that we make behind closed doors where none but us can indulge. I hear you then, O savage warrior, You ironic blond Fury with your Nordic eyes gone glazed with My image. I hear you call for me, ride the winds of my feeling like a bareback Indian, howling for your Gods and Great Spirit to set you free
Holes everywhere.
But despite all the empty spaces,
a sponge can hold something.
A hole may be empty,
but it can be filled
and hold things in it’s curved palm.
How wonderful!
that’s a weired topic!! sponge is very interesting is absorbs everything our minds as kids were like sponge we’ve grown up according to what good/bad thoughts put into our lil brains !
children are like sponges. whatever they grow up around see hear, or take part in they soak up in their tiny little brains and ponder on it, regardless wether they know it or not. our brains remain like sponges til they day we close our eyes for good. there is no way to prevent it nor exceed it. it simply happens, like breathing.
Sponge is something that I have been too often. It’s easier to sit back and absorb than to get out and be the giver. So sponge is not something I am proud of.
her heart…….. soaking all the bad memories….. keeping in itself all the hurt….. absorbing all the hurt that was being poured over her….. it would be almost an insult, but it was true…. it wasn’t a heart…. it was her sponge
The sponge soaked up water. It let it out. It took in many other things, too. However, it never kept anything. Everything it soaked up always left it eventually. It was a sad, sad sponge. It eventually died a lonely death.
I picked it up, and tried to ignore the smells of many past dishes that had been absorbed. It was old and grimy, clearly used frequently in washing, and parts of came off in my hand.
The sponge sat at the corner of the sink, as far away as it could possibly be. Even as it hid in the corner the smell spread throughout the room like a virus, scaring away the lunch crowd. “Good,” thought the sponge, “It’s a beautiful day out, they ought to enjoy it.” But as he sat alone he couldn’t help but long for someone to come back and give him company; even the soap seemed scared of him.
squishy, like a sponge.
“i shall call you squishy, and you shall be my squishy! ow, bad squishy!!”
i love nemo.
and dorie.
she’s kind of my role model.
anyone else?
yeah, iknow.
i probably am the only one.
oh well.
you call it weird
odd
strange
freakish…
i call it
me(:
He honestly didn’t mean to kill her. But the way she slapped their child, he couldn’t help but do the same to her, forgetting the knife in his hand. His ex wife lay dead on the floor. With only a sponge to clean up the blood of someone he once cared so deeply about, who’s memory will be smudged with the bloodshed of her last moments.
it soaks things up when they are wet. our brain is a sponge, soaking up knowledge and absorbing it. but we have a maximum that we can absorb, till we hit the limit, and then we squeeze that knowledge back out, sharing it with others.
Desperately awaiting for the judgement to be sponged from my sight and my ears, I buried my fist against her face until she smiled with blood.
I got a bottle of acid. Nothing special. Just acid/ Poured it to the sponge like the guy in that Youtube video. The sponge was in a sink. I poured it there. Who cares if I can’t clean it up. I want some revenge on the thing that cause kids to laugh like Spongebob.
I love those natural yellow sponges or whatever they are, we sell some similar ones at work, oh god. Work is like a sponge it sucks in my good mood so I’m left feeling like crap, as usual. I hate it, I hate it.
Who lives in a pineapple under the sea!
His mind was a sponge, absorbing any and all information he could. He worked day and night, trying and succeeding in learning every last word definition in the English Dictionary. This was his life, and he hated it.
I soak up knowledge like a sponge. What happens when I do? I become superwoman and get energized to take on new tasks. Unfortunately these tasks often get me in trouble, for instance take the time that a lady in black leather came into my office and asked me to help her find the necklace that her great-grandmother left her.
The cake looked pretty, it a sponge cake , it has a firm body, and it do not taste too sweet. when I first taste it , I thought that some one had made a mistake when they were making it.
sponge bob :)
Sponges are magnificent. They’re so handy. If you need to clean a mess in a hurry, they can be a life saver.
Thanks to the humble sponge, my house is completely blood-splatter free.
She was on the floor, soaking up every little piece of blood that strayed. The floor was cold and hard, and on it her bony legs trembled with each little shuffle she made. It was almost a custom now, as if she knew she should be prepared. The steps were as followed: get home, watch him drink, hear him shout, shout back, he’ll shout back louder, he’ll fight, then he’ll put himself in a self induced sleep. She’s been moping up blood for far too long, in fact, she marveled at how much blood she had in herself.
One day this will stop she promised herself, this all will go away and you won’t be on your knees any longer. But talk is cheap when you’re scared of your own home. But it wasn’t exactly a home either, it couldn’t be could it? Whatever the hell it was, she hated it.
But for the days she was only the girl with the sponge, slowly moping up the blood that kept her alive.
who lives in a pineapple under the sea?
absorbant,
and yellow,
and porous is he.
if nautical nonsense be something you wish
then drop on the deck
and flop like a fish
I soak up the sun like nature built me to. I tilt my head making sure every petal spreads as it receives its lover with arms wide open. My seeds, our children, laugh and grow in my center. My leaves know life as the morning turns to dawn.
I chewed on a sponge. I thought I tasted soap. But, it was only your birth control foam.
she liked to think that she was a sponge, absorbing everything she found important; to be who she wanted to be, slowly absorbing bits from people who inspired her.
She sucks up the mess with a calculated ease. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. If only the rest of her life was this straight forward. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and-
He was like a little sponge, sitting there listening to everythinkg that the teacher had to say. I was so relieved … this was his first day of school, and I was afraid that he would not fit in, that he would want to come right back home.
he soaked up everything,
every thought that slowly drained out of my head
I think my mind was attracted to his imperfect, incomplete self
And I threw down that sponge. Not because I was sick of cleaning, but because I was sick of this life. I was tired of being used and being other people’s burdens and being blamed. And I was also sick of scrubbing the left overs off of their damn plates.
Wet, Sticky, Spongebob. Pineapples. Yellow, moldy. Pirates, captains of ships. Dripping, oozing, Big. Sponges are dirty.
Sponge is under the Kingdom Animalia, Phylum Porifera. OMG! It reminded me of my Biology midterm exam. I hope I get a good grade! My brain turned into a spongy sap when I took that exam!!!!!
I am a sponge for emotions. I just absorb everything in the air around me and I hold it in for ages and ages. I become so saturated sometimes, that I can’t even begin to process what it is that I’m feeling anymore, and it leaves me with a sense of numbness that I can’t ignore. I don’t know what to do when I feel like this. I don’t have anyone to turn to. More often than not, whenever I find that I need help the most, I am alone.
scrub the bathroom sink
spray the kitchen countertops with disinfectant then rub
wash the car
put on make-up
use with soap to clean body in shower
wipe up spills
Sponge makes me think clean thoughts.
it helps u wash the plates and glasses.it is in every home.it makes easy to clean the plates and
I live on a new road, where my street is filled with discarded refuse and the streets smell of rice and curry at 1AM on a Thursday. I take it in like Oxygen, thinking of you somehow, in the remnants of lingering paprika and red pepper, recalling nights spent in the kitchen of Cambridge, were we cooked stir fry and drank PBR, dancing to Colliw Buddz against the walls of your childhood memories. I see you now, bruised from your bike accident, shirtless in the heat, listening to hip hop and making beats, even as I lay here in my room of wooden furniture and astrological tapestries painted blue, wishing you were here, knowing that it would only be in nostalgia and for comfort, but accepting that easy familiarity as simply as taking another sip of whiskey…
Absorbancy like soil in the ways which we kill one another. Blood for blood, foils for one another, my antithesis is you. Your Aryan ways mock my Celtic recall, with our savagery in heated passion of blows to mouth, to breast, to loin. Our bodies brawl in bars and bottles emptied, the undeniable warfare of our warranted hate abated by the love that we make behind closed doors where none but us can indulge. I hear you then, O savage warrior, You ironic blond Fury with your Nordic eyes gone glazed with My image. I hear you call for me, ride the winds of my feeling like a bareback Indian, howling for your Gods and Great Spirit to set you free
Holes everywhere.
But despite all the empty spaces,
a sponge can hold something.
A hole may be empty,
but it can be filled
and hold things in it’s curved palm.
How wonderful!
My mind is a sponge. I’ve been studying like crazy for this new job and I think my mind has reached saturation. No more tonight.
that’s a weired topic!! sponge is very interesting is absorbs everything our minds as kids were like sponge we’ve grown up according to what good/bad thoughts put into our lil brains !
children are like sponges. whatever they grow up around see hear, or take part in they soak up in their tiny little brains and ponder on it, regardless wether they know it or not. our brains remain like sponges til they day we close our eyes for good. there is no way to prevent it nor exceed it. it simply happens, like breathing.
hAHA the first thing that came to mind is sponge bob. SQUARE PANTS.
Not a big fan, but is funny.
I’m such a kid
Sponge is something that I have been too often. It’s easier to sit back and absorb than to get out and be the giver. So sponge is not something I am proud of.
yellow.
wet.
holes.
ocean.
clean.
organism.
spongebob.
science.
school.
shower.
rough.
hell.
her heart…….. soaking all the bad memories….. keeping in itself all the hurt….. absorbing all the hurt that was being poured over her….. it would be almost an insult, but it was true…. it wasn’t a heart…. it was her sponge
The sponge soaked up water. It let it out. It took in many other things, too. However, it never kept anything. Everything it soaked up always left it eventually. It was a sad, sad sponge. It eventually died a lonely death.
I picked it up, and tried to ignore the smells of many past dishes that had been absorbed. It was old and grimy, clearly used frequently in washing, and parts of came off in my hand.
The sponge lay forgotten on the kitchen counter top for days. It was the last thing the woman had held before her heart gave out and she passed away.
The sponge sat at the corner of the sink, as far away as it could possibly be. Even as it hid in the corner the smell spread throughout the room like a virus, scaring away the lunch crowd. “Good,” thought the sponge, “It’s a beautiful day out, they ought to enjoy it.” But as he sat alone he couldn’t help but long for someone to come back and give him company; even the soap seemed scared of him.
squishy, like a sponge.
“i shall call you squishy, and you shall be my squishy! ow, bad squishy!!”
i love nemo.
and dorie.
she’s kind of my role model.
anyone else?
yeah, iknow.
i probably am the only one.
oh well.
you call it weird
odd
strange
freakish…
i call it
me(:
He honestly didn’t mean to kill her. But the way she slapped their child, he couldn’t help but do the same to her, forgetting the knife in his hand. His ex wife lay dead on the floor. With only a sponge to clean up the blood of someone he once cared so deeply about, who’s memory will be smudged with the bloodshed of her last moments.
it soaks things up when they are wet. our brain is a sponge, soaking up knowledge and absorbing it. but we have a maximum that we can absorb, till we hit the limit, and then we squeeze that knowledge back out, sharing it with others.