It stuck to my hair, that disgusting gumball! Sticky, stick, stick! It rolled itself into my hair and clung to my sweater like an arrogant cat. I threw up a little in my mouth at the thought, the horrible thought! How could I have this happen to me? Me! Oh woe is me!
Some things just don’t stick. Some things fall apart; some friendships fall apart. No matter how much you try to stick them back together, they’ll never be the same.
Stick on the ground. Sticky stickers. I’m sick of this sickness that’s sticking like a licked lollypop tangled in my long brown hair. Words you say may or may not stick to me like glue, but how blue is the sky compared to those damn highlighters used to tear apart the poor grammar in the love letters I mail to you each day?
Stick it tho them stick man. Stick men are like skinny people. Jessica is skinny. I like Jessica. I’m getting Jessica a Christmas card. I should get her a gift. Maybe i will. Will is power. I have to power. Power is brought to us through electricity. Electricity runs my life.
I found a stick on the ground. It was about the length of my arm. I picked it up, and pretended it was a sword. I pretended that I was a swordsman who was able to turn anything into a sword, and I chose this stick because it was the right length. Longer swords throw me off balance.
Life as the Scatman ain’t easy. You gotta pick the life and stick with it. Folk’ll try’n tell ya: “Can’t be the Scatman.” You gotta just buck up and be the Scatman.
Amazing! Once this silly piece of wood was just a stick, a twig used to play catch with the dog. So many things changed once I started my second life, so many things brought new meaning to my eyes. A stick could now be that thin line between life and death for me, it had become a weapon, a stake that could pierce my silent heart. I kicked the sharp stick away from me and made a mental note never to get on anyone’s bad side, because these days sticks were so easy to come by.
What’s brown and sticky? A stick?
What’s brown and sticky with legs? A stick insect.
That exhausts the stick jokes, I think. Is the sixty seconds up yet?
a Popsicle makes me think of that tree branch and i like to throw myself in the air and fall on the mat. i then remember about the time my grandma hit my little brother with a stick and i took pictures and then i broke my phone so i couldn’t show my aunt and i have no proof now but my doctor knows we’ve been abused
Stick and stones may break my bones, but your words are but significant. I am immortal and nothing a person says can change that. Nothing a person says can touch me. I am human, but I am untouchable.
Stick and stones can’t break my bones.
i got a stick and started conducting the animals. they started to sing and then the trees started to dance and the earth started to move. it was like a natural eruption of music and love. if not for the stick, music wouldn’t have happened
Sticking with the stick ball game. No where else to go but the couch. I enjoy my childhood because of that amazing game. Wonder how my children will enjoy their free time? Xbox, TV and Twitter. Shame.
Let’s play pooh sticks! We’ll stand on the bridge and throw the sticks on one side, and whoever’s stick gets to the other side of the bridge first wins!! Unless you’re Eeyore, then you always lose.
stick it gymnastics stick to your heart tree grass leaves stick in the mud fuddy duddy snap break poke marshmallows campfires summer fun warm sky stars bats love
my teeth are stupid dancers. they don’t stay in formation. they move around all willy nilly like they own the world. they don’t stick where they’re supposed to say and it’s incredibly frustrating.
and just like that, she was covered in sticky, thick, red syrup. She didn’t know how it happened, or where it even came from, all she knew was that it was sticky. She reached out her hand to stable herself against a lamp post, and sure enough, her hand stuck.
the stick was lying on the ground. it was tired. it was a long fall from the top of the tree from which it came. it missed it’s other stick friends, but more importantly, it missed the leaf. the one he admired from afar and loved so dearly, but secretly.
a stick is a thing from a tree or what gum does to the ground. it is also what peanutbutter does to the roof of your mouth. Sometimes the sap from the thing from a tree is sticky too.
Well at first it was like that cheesy old song – I’m sticking with you?
Oh right. And did she stick?
To begin with. Then it became clear she was making a horrible mistake. He was a typcial Brit – got messy drunk once too often and she chucked him out. Went off with the dustman instead.
Gree….
No gree about it. Turns out he was just making some cash before going back to France. He’s a ski instructor in the winter.
Wow…
I know. To quote another cheesy old song, tall and tan and young and lovely! Well anyway she speaks fluent French these days and they’re expecting their first child together!
im a stick in the mud, stick to it, every day i stick to a strict schedule. popsicle stick. sticky shoes from sticky gum. I hate stickers and sticky things in general. what’s the stickiest thing you’ve ever touched. stick ball. stick of butter.
i was walking in the woods one day. i was hardly distracted by the nature itself when i looked down and saw not one, but two beavers. it had seemed that together they were working to build a hut made out of sticks. it was lovely, i thought, that they could work together in building a home.
Dark eyes and a taptaptap that comes from my memories, from the sweat and terror of hide and seek,
come here, little girl, let me teach you a game,
three sticks for legs and the dog looks up at me, taptaptap, his eyes are nothing, his eyes are
black.
Sticks are one thing that take me back to my childhood. at first the word may seem like it means nothing- but it can bring up memories. Playing fetch with your dog is one of my favorite memories that involves a stick.
I can’t unstick myself from you. I can’t shake you off, or set you free. Like that one time we superglued our hands together to see what it would feel like if we shared the same skin. Bad, it turned out–bodies were meant for a maximum capacity of one, right? We would prove that wrong later too.
you and me together like glue. bread and butter. for good luck. the bubblegum in my hair. when the peanut butter stuck to logan’s mouth. when my candy cane got all over my hands. when i couldn’t get it off me and you helped, and kissed me afterwards…
side by side. touching, the objects stay together. Stick it to me, I think this is like give it to me straight. honest and straightforward.. I’m getting sidetracked….. to stick. self explanatory really.
okay so, things stick to you. even if you don’t want them to. the song, stuck like glue, reminds me of stick. unwanted things, simply clinging itself to you, no matter how hard you want to push it away! Just get out already!!! A stick is brown and twiggy like a branch
I throw a wooden stick for my friend’s dog. I don’t have a dog so I use my friends’ doggies to fill an empty space in my life where a furry friend of my own should be…
once there was this squierrel that tried to run into my house and eat all my food. i told him no, so he left. but he left one thing, a stick. why? what, i wondered was he using this stick for?
That stick on the ground…well its brown, its kind of old looking and short. Inferior to many other sticks. Kind of bent and very brittle. If I picked it up chances are it would not be complete by the time I had lifted it all the way. Yet it has a story…
Somehow the bubble tea session gave you the nickname “Leaf Stick”, and it’s been stuck with you ever since that day. I like to stick with you when I need a friend’s company, someone who wouldn’t give me any perfunctory excuses. Thanks for being there always, Leaf Stick.
poohsticks on the bridge
giggling
silly competition
is it up to luck?
random?
is there a trick to picking sticks?
to dropping them?
if it’s fun, does it even matter?
im stuck to you because you stick to me. i dont want to be stuck to you, but you’re stuck to me. i love you, but you’re too much for me. hey wait a minute, where are you going?
She had no money for a grave marker. No money for a casket. She had to lay his body in the Earth without protection, knowing he would be destroyed. She would be the only one who’d know what that knarled stick in the ground meant.
It stuck to my hair, that disgusting gumball! Sticky, stick, stick! It rolled itself into my hair and clung to my sweater like an arrogant cat. I threw up a little in my mouth at the thought, the horrible thought! How could I have this happen to me? Me! Oh woe is me!
Some things just don’t stick. Some things fall apart; some friendships fall apart. No matter how much you try to stick them back together, they’ll never be the same.
Stick on the ground. Sticky stickers. I’m sick of this sickness that’s sticking like a licked lollypop tangled in my long brown hair. Words you say may or may not stick to me like glue, but how blue is the sky compared to those damn highlighters used to tear apart the poor grammar in the love letters I mail to you each day?
Stick it tho them stick man. Stick men are like skinny people. Jessica is skinny. I like Jessica. I’m getting Jessica a Christmas card. I should get her a gift. Maybe i will. Will is power. I have to power. Power is brought to us through electricity. Electricity runs my life.
I found a stick on the ground. It was about the length of my arm. I picked it up, and pretended it was a sword. I pretended that I was a swordsman who was able to turn anything into a sword, and I chose this stick because it was the right length. Longer swords throw me off balance.
I thought I would stick at the project. I didn’t reckon on his interference
Life as the Scatman ain’t easy. You gotta pick the life and stick with it. Folk’ll try’n tell ya: “Can’t be the Scatman.” You gotta just buck up and be the Scatman.
Skeedaddledaddledaddle Bweeeeeebop bop bwoodle bop. Sweeee zop bahzooba dah, Zee dot dot dotta dah, WAH!
Dammit, thirty seconds have expired already. I have no idea what to write. Stick to it, I suppose, keep on typing, get something out there.
Otherwise, the entire world will know what a loser you are and how right your father is. You’ll never amount to anything.
Amazing! Once this silly piece of wood was just a stick, a twig used to play catch with the dog. So many things changed once I started my second life, so many things brought new meaning to my eyes. A stick could now be that thin line between life and death for me, it had become a weapon, a stake that could pierce my silent heart. I kicked the sharp stick away from me and made a mental note never to get on anyone’s bad side, because these days sticks were so easy to come by.
What’s brown and sticky? A stick?
What’s brown and sticky with legs? A stick insect.
That exhausts the stick jokes, I think. Is the sixty seconds up yet?
Stick with me, stick with you, stick with it. Be inspired, live on and continue to dream. Stick.
sticks fall of trees after they’ve lost their leaves. Winter time is when nature is dead. No green,no life, no fun at all. It all starts in the fall.
a Popsicle makes me think of that tree branch and i like to throw myself in the air and fall on the mat. i then remember about the time my grandma hit my little brother with a stick and i took pictures and then i broke my phone so i couldn’t show my aunt and i have no proof now but my doctor knows we’ve been abused
Stick and stones may break my bones, but your words are but significant. I am immortal and nothing a person says can change that. Nothing a person says can touch me. I am human, but I am untouchable.
Stick and stones can’t break my bones.
i got a stick and started conducting the animals. they started to sing and then the trees started to dance and the earth started to move. it was like a natural eruption of music and love. if not for the stick, music wouldn’t have happened
Sticking with the stick ball game. No where else to go but the couch. I enjoy my childhood because of that amazing game. Wonder how my children will enjoy their free time? Xbox, TV and Twitter. Shame.
Let’s play pooh sticks! We’ll stand on the bridge and throw the sticks on one side, and whoever’s stick gets to the other side of the bridge first wins!! Unless you’re Eeyore, then you always lose.
stick it gymnastics stick to your heart tree grass leaves stick in the mud fuddy duddy snap break poke marshmallows campfires summer fun warm sky stars bats love
my teeth are stupid dancers. they don’t stay in formation. they move around all willy nilly like they own the world. they don’t stick where they’re supposed to say and it’s incredibly frustrating.
and just like that, she was covered in sticky, thick, red syrup. She didn’t know how it happened, or where it even came from, all she knew was that it was sticky. She reached out her hand to stable herself against a lamp post, and sure enough, her hand stuck.
the stick was lying on the ground. it was tired. it was a long fall from the top of the tree from which it came. it missed it’s other stick friends, but more importantly, it missed the leaf. the one he admired from afar and loved so dearly, but secretly.
a stick is a thing from a tree or what gum does to the ground. it is also what peanutbutter does to the roof of your mouth. Sometimes the sap from the thing from a tree is sticky too.
Well at first it was like that cheesy old song – I’m sticking with you?
Oh right. And did she stick?
To begin with. Then it became clear she was making a horrible mistake. He was a typcial Brit – got messy drunk once too often and she chucked him out. Went off with the dustman instead.
Gree….
No gree about it. Turns out he was just making some cash before going back to France. He’s a ski instructor in the winter.
Wow…
I know. To quote another cheesy old song, tall and tan and young and lovely! Well anyway she speaks fluent French these days and they’re expecting their first child together!
im a stick in the mud, stick to it, every day i stick to a strict schedule. popsicle stick. sticky shoes from sticky gum. I hate stickers and sticky things in general. what’s the stickiest thing you’ve ever touched. stick ball. stick of butter.
i was walking in the woods one day. i was hardly distracted by the nature itself when i looked down and saw not one, but two beavers. it had seemed that together they were working to build a hut made out of sticks. it was lovely, i thought, that they could work together in building a home.
Dark eyes and a taptaptap that comes from my memories, from the sweat and terror of hide and seek,
come here, little girl, let me teach you a game,
three sticks for legs and the dog looks up at me, taptaptap, his eyes are nothing, his eyes are
black.
Sticks are one thing that take me back to my childhood. at first the word may seem like it means nothing- but it can bring up memories. Playing fetch with your dog is one of my favorite memories that involves a stick.
I can’t unstick myself from you. I can’t shake you off, or set you free. Like that one time we superglued our hands together to see what it would feel like if we shared the same skin. Bad, it turned out–bodies were meant for a maximum capacity of one, right? We would prove that wrong later too.
you and me together like glue. bread and butter. for good luck. the bubblegum in my hair. when the peanut butter stuck to logan’s mouth. when my candy cane got all over my hands. when i couldn’t get it off me and you helped, and kissed me afterwards…
side by side. touching, the objects stay together. Stick it to me, I think this is like give it to me straight. honest and straightforward.. I’m getting sidetracked….. to stick. self explanatory really.
okay so, things stick to you. even if you don’t want them to. the song, stuck like glue, reminds me of stick. unwanted things, simply clinging itself to you, no matter how hard you want to push it away! Just get out already!!! A stick is brown and twiggy like a branch
I throw a wooden stick for my friend’s dog. I don’t have a dog so I use my friends’ doggies to fill an empty space in my life where a furry friend of my own should be…
once there was this squierrel that tried to run into my house and eat all my food. i told him no, so he left. but he left one thing, a stick. why? what, i wondered was he using this stick for?
That stick on the ground…well its brown, its kind of old looking and short. Inferior to many other sticks. Kind of bent and very brittle. If I picked it up chances are it would not be complete by the time I had lifted it all the way. Yet it has a story…
A dog sinks his teeth into a stick once he retrieves it and refuses to let go. You go, doggy! You went and fetched it for G-d’s sake!
Somehow the bubble tea session gave you the nickname “Leaf Stick”, and it’s been stuck with you ever since that day. I like to stick with you when I need a friend’s company, someone who wouldn’t give me any perfunctory excuses. Thanks for being there always, Leaf Stick.
poohsticks on the bridge
giggling
silly competition
is it up to luck?
random?
is there a trick to picking sticks?
to dropping them?
if it’s fun, does it even matter?
im stuck to you because you stick to me. i dont want to be stuck to you, but you’re stuck to me. i love you, but you’re too much for me. hey wait a minute, where are you going?
She had no money for a grave marker. No money for a casket. She had to lay his body in the Earth without protection, knowing he would be destroyed. She would be the only one who’d know what that knarled stick in the ground meant.
I’ve wrote about the stick already, lets have a new one.