I use to wash up with my favorite yellow sponge. I used it everyday until it was gone to pieces. I loved this sponge and it kept me fresh and clean. My mom use to love to smell me.
I hate spongebob . I love the way the feel when you hold it though . I hate to clean with it but pink is better than anything. I wonder how you make a sponge cake I’m hungry ready for lunch .
I love sponges . Reminds me of my favorite t.v show sponge bob Square pants. Sponges are soft and squishy. Sponges can be very flexable. I love neon sponges. Sponges can be useful for cleaning. They are so helpful sometime . Ahhh sponges .
Who lives in a pineapple under the sea , spongebob squarepants absorbent and yellow and porous is he SPONGEBOB SQUARE PANTS , his nautical nonsense be something you wish SPONGEBOB SQUARE PANTS drop on the deck and flop like a fish SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS
The first thong I think about when I see the word sponge, is spongebob squarepants. Spongebob square pants is a t..v.show involving a sponge withnlife like features.
When I think I think of sponges, I think of Spongebob. I also think of the sea sponges. Then that makes me think hey are the dishes done? Sponges are useful utensils and they’re awesome. Thank god for sponges.
I just read somewhere that you can use a piece of bread as a sponge to pick up broken glass. I thought that was the coolest thing!
Mostly sponges are gross necessities of life. Need to be changed frequently. There are systems to cut a corner and change the use to get the most use of the sponge, but I just toss them.
Aunt Clare’s yellow sponge cake always makes me happy. I’m nearly 12 years old and I still love to visit her house and spend the weekend. Uncle Carl has a stack of vintage comic books that he collected as a kid. I love them.
I can’t stop your tears from falling.
I can’t stop your heart from stalling.
I cannot stop you from leaving.
I cannot stop the deceiving.
Thought theses things leave us separate and apart.
I can stay with you forever my darling, and give you my heart.
It was a wet existence. Being pushed, squeezed and plunged day after day. Then I am left to dry out and be corroded by the chemicals no one seems to care about. Rinse, lather and repeat. This happens day after day until I am unneeded any longer. This is the sad existence of a kitchen sponge.
“The details were perfect. The texture of her clothing, the fall of the drapes in the background. He didn’t see how he could ever hope to imitate the master. “Ah,” said his teacher. “When you are submitting a fraudulent piece of art, you must remember that the buyer wants to believe it is real.”
Hahahaaa sponge! Such a funny word and I think of baths. I absolutely love a good long bath. But I love coral reefs and sponges make a part of that. These tiny individual living lives that come together to form this mass, living sponge. Objecting only to survive, together, and doing so as one. Inspiring.
i absorb concepts the way sponges absorb water. i retain them forever, never dry of knowledge. they call me a walking encyclopedia, i just tell them this is the way everybody should live by.
I soak you up and and take you in. Like a sponge, I want nothing else but you everywhere I need your smell w/ me or I’ll just die to have something so sweet and then to not is the world’s greatest loss.
There’s a mayhem inside my system, right inside the ribcage; everything is a mess. Not that You’re my personal cleanup man, but You came anyway, kneading sponges of love on the scratches of my heart, mopping up spilt milk and fragments of broken hopes around the corners. “You’ll get it done, trust me,” You said with a light tap on my shoulder. And I do–trust You, that is–because that’s what I always do: trust God.
All her interest in hopscotch evaporated from her head when she stepped outside, for the ground felt spongy beneath her clenched toes; a thin layer of brownish leaves from the old Narra carpeted the road. It felt soft, exactly like a rug, and she happily jumped over it, sending a flurry of leaves around her. If only the leaves were real sponges, maybe they could seep the overflowing happiness from her that moment alone…
Soak up all that glory because the moment is fleeting. You only have one chance to shine and be the center of attention (because the world is fickle, and you’ll be nothing more than dust the day after you become the sensational Voice of your generation). And your face will blend amongst the sea of sex, drugs, and rock and roll.
absorbing all that is around it and holding it inside, changing both what is absorbed and what is doing the absorbing; knowledge, love, kindness and the flip side of all that; hate, fear, etc. all this can be absorbed by the “sponge”
it absorbs any and everything it touches… it is a post-modern inanimate object. It is an adolescent, taking in everything. But unlike a sponge – it is difficult for us to rid ourselves of the unwanted water.
Soaking up the tears spilled on the dining room table
The pores of the sponge opened up as the fabric of the family
unraveled,
leaving nothing but tears in the midst of the worn linen.
Dancers are sponges for choreographers. “Dance, puppets!” they exclaim, and pirouettes follow. They absorb instruction, and demonstrate their ability to move the way that will create a perfect composition of movement.
A distant memory of fun filled days at the beach, feeling the soft silca white sand between my toes, the gentle curling waves. During that marvellous day we went snorkling.
She used a rag as a sponge, trying to take away most of the blood, and looked down at her son with surprise.
“What have you done?” she asked him in a whisper, so that the women busying themselves about her couldn’t hear. “What have you done… to have this all happen to you? When are you going to find a wife?”
The seventeen year old boy could not hear her, because he had blood running down his face from a gash over his eye.
I clicked through the channels on a Wednesday night, not much going on. And I happened to turn to SpongeBob SquarePants. Other than that it may teach a few important lessons to kids, it is a pain in the ass to watch– or even listen to, too.
Did someone made you as his/her sponge?
She came to me and cry her heart out. I just sit beside her and listen to all the pain in her heart. I’m like a sponge. Soft, someone she could hug. I act like an absorbent material because I should just listen. No buts, ifs, whats. She just wants me to hear her weep over a guy he met on a party, she doesn’t even want me to ease the pain. :(
he was working that day diving for sponges off the north African coast and I languished in a mountainside factory on Crete, wrapping cucumbers ( agourias, the green animals ), at twelve o’clock I was suddenly overwhelmed by griping pains, a shortage of breath and vomited outside in the blinding sunlight. At precisely the same time he was on his boat trying to bind up a blood leg wound, extracting the spines of the creature whose poison was coursing through his veins and nauseating him, like any of the world’s seas, stuff like this is always happening to me I don’t know where I begin or end and whatever edges I might perceive shift and reshape themselves endlessly
Sponges are a;lkdajfd;laskfjda;lsdkjfas;ldfkjasd;lfkj ;lkjfk;;saldkjjfkdka;lka I like to use it in the bath but also to clean dishes in the fridge. One way to clean them is to put them in the microwave. They sometimes work better than paper towels. I like pink ones
What the world needs is a sponge that absorbs all the negativity and then dumps it elsewhere. We need to move away from this negativity – why can’t people just ACCEPT?
I drop the sponge in the sink and turn on the faucet. My hands, red from cleaning chemicals, feel raw even as the cold water washes the dirt from them. I need moisturizer. I need a maid.
Once again, I thought of “Ponge,” who is a French writer. Weird, but I avoid the real word. Sponges get smelly after you use them a while, and then it leaves a very spongey stench on your hands. It’s something that only sponges smell like. A mildewy plethora of aromas mixed together.
It is yellow it absorb things that is liquid it has wholes sponge bob is a sponge he is yellow and has holes
I use to wash up with my favorite yellow sponge. I used it everyday until it was gone to pieces. I loved this sponge and it kept me fresh and clean. My mom use to love to smell me.
I hate spongebob . I love the way the feel when you hold it though . I hate to clean with it but pink is better than anything. I wonder how you make a sponge cake I’m hungry ready for lunch .
I love sponges . Reminds me of my favorite t.v show sponge bob Square pants. Sponges are soft and squishy. Sponges can be very flexable. I love neon sponges. Sponges can be useful for cleaning. They are so helpful sometime . Ahhh sponges .
Who lives in a pineapple under the sea , spongebob squarepants absorbent and yellow and porous is he SPONGEBOB SQUARE PANTS , his nautical nonsense be something you wish SPONGEBOB SQUARE PANTS drop on the deck and flop like a fish SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS
The first thong I think about when I see the word sponge, is spongebob squarepants. Spongebob square pants is a t..v.show involving a sponge withnlife like features.
When I think I think of sponges, I think of Spongebob. I also think of the sea sponges. Then that makes me think hey are the dishes done? Sponges are useful utensils and they’re awesome. Thank god for sponges.
Sponge bob square pants, cleaning tool, water, soap ,
I just read somewhere that you can use a piece of bread as a sponge to pick up broken glass. I thought that was the coolest thing!
Mostly sponges are gross necessities of life. Need to be changed frequently. There are systems to cut a corner and change the use to get the most use of the sponge, but I just toss them.
Is an object used to clean that sucks up a lot of water. Spongebob square pants
Aunt Clare’s yellow sponge cake always makes me happy. I’m nearly 12 years old and I still love to visit her house and spend the weekend. Uncle Carl has a stack of vintage comic books that he collected as a kid. I love them.
I can’t stop your tears from falling.
I can’t stop your heart from stalling.
I cannot stop you from leaving.
I cannot stop the deceiving.
Thought theses things leave us separate and apart.
I can stay with you forever my darling, and give you my heart.
It was a wet existence. Being pushed, squeezed and plunged day after day. Then I am left to dry out and be corroded by the chemicals no one seems to care about. Rinse, lather and repeat. This happens day after day until I am unneeded any longer. This is the sad existence of a kitchen sponge.
“The details were perfect. The texture of her clothing, the fall of the drapes in the background. He didn’t see how he could ever hope to imitate the master. “Ah,” said his teacher. “When you are submitting a fraudulent piece of art, you must remember that the buyer wants to believe it is real.”
Hahahaaa sponge! Such a funny word and I think of baths. I absolutely love a good long bath. But I love coral reefs and sponges make a part of that. These tiny individual living lives that come together to form this mass, living sponge. Objecting only to survive, together, and doing so as one. Inspiring.
i absorb concepts the way sponges absorb water. i retain them forever, never dry of knowledge. they call me a walking encyclopedia, i just tell them this is the way everybody should live by.
I soak you up and and take you in. Like a sponge, I want nothing else but you everywhere I need your smell w/ me or I’ll just die to have something so sweet and then to not is the world’s greatest loss.
There’s a mayhem inside my system, right inside the ribcage; everything is a mess. Not that You’re my personal cleanup man, but You came anyway, kneading sponges of love on the scratches of my heart, mopping up spilt milk and fragments of broken hopes around the corners. “You’ll get it done, trust me,” You said with a light tap on my shoulder. And I do–trust You, that is–because that’s what I always do: trust God.
All her interest in hopscotch evaporated from her head when she stepped outside, for the ground felt spongy beneath her clenched toes; a thin layer of brownish leaves from the old Narra carpeted the road. It felt soft, exactly like a rug, and she happily jumped over it, sending a flurry of leaves around her. If only the leaves were real sponges, maybe they could seep the overflowing happiness from her that moment alone…
I absorb everything I see. Like a sponge I absorb the good, and get rid of any excess.
Soak up all that glory because the moment is fleeting. You only have one chance to shine and be the center of attention (because the world is fickle, and you’ll be nothing more than dust the day after you become the sensational Voice of your generation). And your face will blend amongst the sea of sex, drugs, and rock and roll.
My emotion wants me to say yes..
But my logic commands me to say no.
I turned away from my mother for the last and final time.
She’s cleaned me out once before.. Due to her addiction.
She wouldn’t do it again..
She was a sponge.
absorbing all that is around it and holding it inside, changing both what is absorbed and what is doing the absorbing; knowledge, love, kindness and the flip side of all that; hate, fear, etc. all this can be absorbed by the “sponge”
it absorbs any and everything it touches… it is a post-modern inanimate object. It is an adolescent, taking in everything. But unlike a sponge – it is difficult for us to rid ourselves of the unwanted water.
my mom always used to put our sponge in the microwave. I wish I knew why.
yellow, porrus, multiple colors, clean up, household item, kitchen, holds, water, lives in the sea, under the sea, square pants
Soaking up the tears spilled on the dining room table
The pores of the sponge opened up as the fabric of the family
unraveled,
leaving nothing but tears in the midst of the worn linen.
It just soaked. Just like sponge. But in this case it just soaked up the words. Her mind soaked up those words. They were precious.
Dancers are sponges for choreographers. “Dance, puppets!” they exclaim, and pirouettes follow. They absorb instruction, and demonstrate their ability to move the way that will create a perfect composition of movement.
A distant memory of fun filled days at the beach, feeling the soft silca white sand between my toes, the gentle curling waves. During that marvellous day we went snorkling.
She used a rag as a sponge, trying to take away most of the blood, and looked down at her son with surprise.
“What have you done?” she asked him in a whisper, so that the women busying themselves about her couldn’t hear. “What have you done… to have this all happen to you? When are you going to find a wife?”
The seventeen year old boy could not hear her, because he had blood running down his face from a gash over his eye.
I clicked through the channels on a Wednesday night, not much going on. And I happened to turn to SpongeBob SquarePants. Other than that it may teach a few important lessons to kids, it is a pain in the ass to watch– or even listen to, too.
Did someone made you as his/her sponge?
She came to me and cry her heart out. I just sit beside her and listen to all the pain in her heart. I’m like a sponge. Soft, someone she could hug. I act like an absorbent material because I should just listen. No buts, ifs, whats. She just wants me to hear her weep over a guy he met on a party, she doesn’t even want me to ease the pain. :(
he was working that day diving for sponges off the north African coast and I languished in a mountainside factory on Crete, wrapping cucumbers ( agourias, the green animals ), at twelve o’clock I was suddenly overwhelmed by griping pains, a shortage of breath and vomited outside in the blinding sunlight. At precisely the same time he was on his boat trying to bind up a blood leg wound, extracting the spines of the creature whose poison was coursing through his veins and nauseating him, like any of the world’s seas, stuff like this is always happening to me I don’t know where I begin or end and whatever edges I might perceive shift and reshape themselves endlessly
Sponges are a;lkdajfd;laskfjda;lsdkjfas;ldfkjasd;lfkj ;lkjfk;;saldkjjfkdka;lka I like to use it in the bath but also to clean dishes in the fridge. One way to clean them is to put them in the microwave. They sometimes work better than paper towels. I like pink ones
What the world needs is a sponge that absorbs all the negativity and then dumps it elsewhere. We need to move away from this negativity – why can’t people just ACCEPT?
the airy filled material sqeezed between my fingers, a cascade of water hitting the car’s bonnet.
Cake! I could do with a slice of Victoria sponge, I haven’t baked anything in about 2 weeks….
I drop the sponge in the sink and turn on the faucet. My hands, red from cleaning chemicals, feel raw even as the cold water washes the dirt from them. I need moisturizer. I need a maid.
Once again, I thought of “Ponge,” who is a French writer. Weird, but I avoid the real word. Sponges get smelly after you use them a while, and then it leaves a very spongey stench on your hands. It’s something that only sponges smell like. A mildewy plethora of aromas mixed together.