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stirr,stir crazy, i bet i’m gunna find my writing a bit lazy. i’ve got thirty seconds to write about sir, more than one thing can happen i concurr.
i’ve not really started to get to the topic cause stir is what i do with my coffee…
By Craig Tinning on 12.16.2012
Mix it up and mix round mix is the same as stir or round or bowl well not bowl buys you stir in a bowl and use stirring for cooking and backing and making and you can stir with energy or not so much energy or as much power as you want and stirring is generally used in cooking but you can use it in other things to and you stir in a bowl and you can do loads of things with stirring.
By Td URL on 12.16.2012
Stir said the lady and mix
If you don’t do it properly,you mixing skills is what I’ll have to fix
I want to make soup
Don’t want to clean the animals poop
But I love to stir
Sometimes my cats like to purr
And I like to mix in a bowl
And miles live in a hole
Mixing in the flour, the whiteness
slowly dissolving into the dough.
It becomes thicker, gradually
harder to stir. Baking cookies
with my mother, our little sticky hands
reaching into the bowl for more.
By Hailey on 12.16.2012
stir doesnt just mean stir the food or pot. but in everyday life, we stir up our own lives with each decision that we make. With the decision of what to wear, or who to say hi to, or who to smile to- we stir up how the day will last.
stir it up, little darling, stir it up.
By Saige on 12.16.2012
She stirred her coffee and gave it a sip. If only her problems would dissolve like the sugar and cream. I don;t like vanilla in my coffee. Stir– to begin to wake. I need to stir. I need to stop stirring.
By Callie Shotts on 12.16.2012
My mom handed me the bowl and gave me the spoon.
“Stir it like I do.”
So I tried. But it never tasted the same unless it was mom stirring it.
So I tired again. But I couldn’t get it.
My biggest regret in life was never learning to stir the way Mom did.
By Amber Johnston URL on 12.16.2012
She was dancing in her little dress….backless, short, and to the point. The sexy spectacle caused quite a stir at the wedding reception.
By Theresa URL on 12.16.2012
She whisks the batter, stirs it up into frothy peaks and buttery mounds. It’s getting everywhere, and the clumps stick to her fingers and apron. The stool wobbles, teeters dangerously, but she keeps stirring and whisking and mashing and scooping. It’s a work of art, she thinks. A veritable masterpiece. Just as she puts the bowl down, wipes her stained fingers on the blue towel hanging from the countertop, the human incarnation of Godzilla walks in and screams, “What have you done to the kitchen?!”
By Carolyn Zhao on 12.16.2012
The events stirred the nation. A new movement was born of the chaos and tragedy. Institutions fell, and new promises were made. And the people quieted down, back to their stagnant, oppressed lives, waiting to be stirred again.
By Archori on 12.16.2012
sweetly shifting, sheets tangled and the taste of you on my lips,
sleep lifts your heavy head
don’t move, keep you eyes closed weight transfer
smell of tea and warm clean man
By Dana on 12.16.2012
There was a stir in the air. The hound pointed his muzzle upwards, reaching for the bent change. What was it? What could it be?
By flutefrog on 12.16.2012
All these emotions swirled around inside me. I felt like the ingredients of a cake being thrown about. He was my friend…
By Claudia Affan on 12.16.2012
Stir the kettle. Stir the pot. Stir things up. Stir, stir, stir. Stir the soup. Stir me up. Stir, stir, stir. One love. Let’s get together and feel alright. No stirring there. I hope Perty doesn’t call while I am writing about stir.
By Dena on 12.16.2012
Stir is to move something around in a circular motion, be it a liquid substance or a more fluid like thing. This can be done with anything from your finger to a spoon and it’s ease of use is entirely dependent on the texture of what you are stirring.
By Cal on 12.16.2012
She tossed and turned. It was the middle of the night. The whole room was cloaked in darkness.
The clock ticked. The sound drove her crazy, something it doesn’t usually do. But because of the blasted heat, every little possible thing bothered her.
She got up, leaving the room and creeping down the stairs. She knew she wasn’t getting any sleep, so why not take a walk?
By Jonathan on 12.16.2012
As I slowly stir my risotto a feeling of peace descends on me. I am cooking just for myself everyone else has been fed. And all I have to do for the next twenty minutes is stand here and do nothing but stir. I can’t tidy, clean or wash up. I just have to make sure it doesn’t stick. And as I do nothing else I am left alone with my thoughts.
By egold on 12.16.2012
Turning around like when you make butter. that reminds me of the past when you didn’t have this high tech stuff to make things. working to do stuff the hard way. ugh
By Roiden on 12.16.2012
stiring a drink is great it makes the liquid at the bottom go to the top
getting drunk sucks when the bottom is more potant then the top
modern say problems. when your drink is stired not shaken
life sucks poor me
ill get over it
you can always just use your finger
this isnt even a fun word
stirring is so easy to do
its not very exciting
By kelsey URL on 12.16.2012
Stir the batter. Put it on the cookie sheet. Place it in the oven. Set the timer. Take the cookies out. DEVOUR THEM. repeat. obesity.
By Anna Felmet URL on 12.16.2012
It’s always fun to stir things up.
By Jason on 12.16.2012
When I look at you, something deep in my bones begins to stir. It’s a feeling that has been ignored, neglected, from the very core of me, for years and years. I relish the feeling and yet I feel powerless when it comes to you. I am a fumbling mess, a bag of skin and bones and trembling nerves when you look at me.
By C on 12.16.2012
I stir the soup while staring into it, lost in thought about it. As the liquid swirled slowly, I wondered about the taste. Hopefully it would be good enough to be edible.
By KateZilla on 12.16.2012
And on the left, stirring the pot is-myself. Maybe crafting a silky smooth ganache, maybe not. If “yes”, I will coat everything in sickly sweetness. You, too. If I take a bite out of you, I’ll taste nothing but chocolate.
By Candice Kight URL on 12.16.2012
Phil enjoyed a moment stretching and rolling over without quite opening his eyes. There was plenty of time to relax before the drama. If experience was consistent, Mel would be pouring over the sports pages until they dragged him out the door, Wesley would be carefully packing his bag, and flicking off Ned’s squawking alarm with a reproving shove to his feet at his insistence the vibrations were as effective as noise to any hearing man.
Phil glanced at his clock and realised everything might have collapsed before they even got started; not a whisper from any of them. He stumbled from his room, banging on each of their doors and calling to Wesley to get Ned up. He paused in the kitchen, surprised by the faint smell of bacon. A greasy pan jammed into the sink.
“Hey guys, you had breakfast already? Where’s mine?”
His watch reassured him it was still only 7.
He strode through the flat, pushing open the doors to empty rooms.
“What the fuck…” He searched quickly for his phone, and dialled Mel’s number. Cheery twat answerphone message and a beep.
“You left without me?” he hollered into the phone, pausing as he realised they’d left their wallets and phones lined up on the counter.
By Sam URL on 12.16.2012
I felt something stir within my mind, heart and stomach. But then I doubted .. maybe the whole experience was triggered by the movement of my breakfast sustenance on its way to become the blood in my body.
By charmed on 12.16.2012
me up. Take all the parts of my soul and pour me out. Stir me in the crowd so that I touch everyone.
By Solitaire on 12.16.2012
One night, God stirred my soul to finally see Him for Who He Is; the best Father. And I tried Him out. And I haven’t looked back. And I love Him; and I love Him.
By Stephen Groner on 12.16.2012
My sugar in the tea every morning. Green tea, with just one spoon of sugar. Not too sweet, not sweet enough. Perfection that creates my mornings. I must have this or my day is never the same. Love is morning’s tea.
By Anna Vatagina on 12.16.2012
stire the pot. she doesn’t understand what shes doing. she isn’t capable of achieving cognitive thought any more. But this one special lady, she wrecks havoc on the city of hellsangles. Don’t mess around. Don’t even look in her eyes askew. She has retard strength.
By Justin Smythe on 12.16.2012
I watched her stir the dough, I’d like to think that she really wanted to make a nice breakfast for everybody but I knew that baking was just something to keep her busy. She had to keep her mind off of it–off of everything. Suddenly the ball of sugar and butter was the most important thing to her and nothing else mattered. I didn’t want to be the one to snap her out of the trance and remind her of what happened. Who was I to infringe on her lackadaisical mood? Isn’t ignorance bliss? But I’m sure feigned ignorance isn’t counted in that saying.
By paige URL on 12.16.2012
mixing with a wooden spoon the batter in a bowl
By lauren on 12.16.2012
Many days I stay calm, balanced. But then something always seems to come up that throws me off.
By mikhail on 12.16.2012
after smoking marlboros under the hive
we led the bees on a merry chase
(though i lost you on the way
and the honey turned
a bitter taste.)
By isa on 12.16.2012
Stir fry is delicious and its in the wok im going stir crazy i will stir everything away entropy increasing stirring forwards and backwards. Where is the food? Stir my tea, stir the milk round into the coffee, stir the colours together and never unstir – they can’t, That’s entropy.
By Laura on 12.16.2012
Bubbling cauldrons and school children taking naps.. A bowl of chocolate chip cookie dough being whipped up by a soccer mom and pet owner of two dogs.
By Ali on 12.16.2012
not a creature was stirring. not even a mouse. which had eaten a small piece of radioactive cheese and turned into a flesh eating demon mouse. he used his flesh eating powers to infiltrate the homes of every cheese owner in the city where he ate them, and their cheese, whole. he became so fat that when he returned back to his family in his mouse hole, he burst. spraying radiation all over his mouse babies. mark the end of the world as we know it.
By Tjrider93 on 12.16.2012
I stir and stir the soup, with delicious smells coming up from the great pot. I smell my work coming out and (of course) all the spices. I chop up the chicken and toss it in and stir even more.
By Eva URL on 12.16.2012
He unscrewed the cap slowly, the small bottle weighing heavy in his hand. His fingers fumbled as he let three drops trickle into the mug of tea. She called to him for the bedroom, her voice far away but loud enough to make him jump.
‘Remember Martin, only one sugar, you always make it too sweet.’
By lightthisfuse on 12.16.2012
I felt him stir beside me. We were sharing a cough; a worn-out thing, that had broken earlier that day. We were cramped, and my leg was on his chest, but we shared it. The two of us. Together. I remember how… fuzzy, I felt. Feeling him stir beside me. And it wasn’t long until he stirred his way up, sitting. Then he leaned forward, and slid down with his face next to mine. And it was heaven.
By Jo on 12.16.2012
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.