where did it go? i had it just a minute ago. ugh. my mom always told me to never put it on silent. why didn’t i listen to her? why didn’t i turn on the ringer?
My wife was put through the ringer as she has applied for this new job promotion. She has shown great perseverance and determination as she has passion.
she’s a dead ringer for patty. i said to myself when i saw her, that girl looks just like bill’s patty. and believe you me, i don’t lie about things like this. i just couldn’t.
you told me to watch that infernal movie, and i did, not doubting, not questioning, when in reality, i neither care nor love psychological horror/thriller movies, whatever the fuck you want to call it. you know i hadn’t heard of the proverb, my english back then wasn’t where it is now, and i continued to watch, drawing lines from your perception of me to the plot of the movie, and their weird ongoign addiction. scary stuff.
School yard ringers, smack dab in the middle of a throng of ten-year-olds. Picking teams for kickball; an exercise as old as time itself, in which the young learn their lifelong place in any given peer group they may have.
A ringer at this time of year makes me think of the bell ringers at stores. I have volunteered to ring a bell this year because I want to give back for all of the grace I have been shown. I have been given so many opportunities that I absolutely don’t deserve.
She hadn’t expected the ringer of her phone to go off when it did, as a matter of fact, she wasn’t expecting anything at all. It had been three weeks since he last spoke to her, and she had assumed that they were pretty much done. But the undeniable sound of Adelaide playing had changed that.
I like rings. Ringer reminds me of them. I love reading doorbells. They are proably fav thing to do. I really appreciate theis website it is quite enjoyable. Thanks
The church in the center of the town’s bell continued to ring and ring until nobody could take it and they looked for the bell ringer to tell him to stop… There was no bell ringer.
She fell, hard. She was bleeding from the mouth, but she didn’t care. Her lip curled up into a smile and she heavily rose to her feet. She felt someone lift her arm in the air – the ref, probably – and heard boos and cheers greet her from behind the blinding lights.
ringer…. ringer… dead ringer…. looks just like him. He was a dead ringer for the man I used to know, used to love. He looked like him but wasn’t him. That made it worse somehow. Looking like him. Making me remember him. Making me long for what I could never have again.
The phone didn’t stop singing. Incessant. People at the train station were starting to turn around and see who was not answering the phone. They saw a young girl staring at it, absolutely terrified of what came next. Picking up and saying “hello” didn’t seem like enough in this moment.
It very unnerving, the way her mouth curved when she smirked, her soft laugh, and the ease he felt in her presence. Sure, she was a brunette, not a blonde, and her eyes were brown, not green. But everything else about her screamed that she was a dead-ringer for his ex, Sophia, and he’d be stupid not to walk away now before he couldn’t.
I was sitting around the table. Silence was penetrating the air. I look around and see the sleeping eyes. It is all broken when my ringer goes off. No longer am I the recipient of crusty eyes, rather, eyes that shoot bullets through my skull. “Great” I thought. “I’m eating along again today.” I hear my fake laugh leave my lips as I silence it. “idiots” I mutter and the meeting drags on.
Augustus Waters is almost the ringer (the leader) of the whole situation, of the three of them. He leads the group with his positivity and optimism in the face of adversity!
you always have your ringer off. i know it’s because you don’t want her to hear it and it makes me feel like an awful person. maybe i AM an awful person. probably. but i can’t help feeling like i’m right for you and she’s wrong. i love you and she just tolerates you. am i wrong? i wish you would turn your ringer on.
Kelsey Ringer had huge boobs in high school. One time Peter and her were skating next to eachother and Peter slipped and his hands went out and grasped her boob. We would tease Peter by yelling “Peter touched Kelsey” when he walked by. In code, we would yell PTK when the girls were around. We were jealous that his hand had graced her healthy boob. One time, I had an opportunity to kiss Kelsey. But I was afraid and didn’t make the move.
I could tell he most definitely wanted to ring’er up, but his sense of propriety wouldn’t allow it. Always a gentleman never a cad, but “Maybe,” he thinks, “a text wouldn’t be so bad?”
dead ringer, that’s for sure. the spitting image. the toll time took on his visage is told in the crevasses, like cracks in dry sand or the warping of wet wood. a shaky hand draws a knife from the heart of a plum, and juice runs down the edge of the blade to the handle. the old man is overripe, just like the plum he pops into his mouth.
He was a dead ringer for my ex-boyfriend, right down to the crooked smile and the dirty blond hair that lay just above his shoulders. It was hard to look at him, and know that even though I wanted to harbour bad feelings about him, I couldn’t be too quick to judge. I wondered if this is why Alice, my best friend, had set us up on this date. Maybe it was her own little joke, wanting to see how I would handle being with someone who looked so much like the guy who broke my heart.
I think this is funny word because it is a “dead RINGER” to a telephone noise. It also has several different connotations and meanings, but used in the way presented here “ringer” it is more difficult. This is also and
The annoying tones of his ringer woke him up yet again, right when he was in the middle of a fulfilling and vaguely erotic dream involving Zangief from Street Fighter and members of GI Joe.
The ringer took him 10 years back. His old memories was flashing inside his head. he could see himself going to schools with his buddies. Having fun. Without any worries of past or present.
I watched the bell ringers in the city square for about five minutes, then picked up my feet and walked to the Christmas tree that was being erected by the city council building. The first of December had arrived, and long before that, the lights had been hung, the wreaths had been hooked to the doors, and a certain cinnamon smell radiated from the restaurants and shops like a miniature, sweet sun around your head. I expected to taste peppermint in everything I ate and drank, and when it got chilly at night, I waited for the snow to fall.
I could hear it through the tent, the sensory vibrations of the drums and the cligning of the shaman’s rattle. A man’s voice rang out, like a copper ringer into the midst of the shadowy movements I could see on the surface of the walls. Throught the night, this voice, with it’s words of generations pasts, would carry me into the final passages of time.
where did it go? i had it just a minute ago. ugh. my mom always told me to never put it on silent. why didn’t i listen to her? why didn’t i turn on the ringer?
the moment was ruined.
why did it have to stop like that?
al because she didn’t turn off the stupid ringer on her cellphone.
they were so close, she could feel his breath on her lips.
bell ringer, alarm, salvation army, annoying, loud, Dead ringer, good, really good, bring the ringer, ring,
write as much as I can. ringer on a phone. ring tone. I wonder what I should make for my ringtone. should it be loud and annoying or just simple.
My wife was put through the ringer as she has applied for this new job promotion. She has shown great perseverance and determination as she has passion.
she’s a dead ringer for patty. i said to myself when i saw her, that girl looks just like bill’s patty. and believe you me, i don’t lie about things like this. i just couldn’t.
you told me to watch that infernal movie, and i did, not doubting, not questioning, when in reality, i neither care nor love psychological horror/thriller movies, whatever the fuck you want to call it. you know i hadn’t heard of the proverb, my english back then wasn’t where it is now, and i continued to watch, drawing lines from your perception of me to the plot of the movie, and their weird ongoign addiction. scary stuff.
School yard ringers, smack dab in the middle of a throng of ten-year-olds. Picking teams for kickball; an exercise as old as time itself, in which the young learn their lifelong place in any given peer group they may have.
Something that rings when it is viberated. The litle bell ringed loudly becuase it had an extra ringer.
A ringer at this time of year makes me think of the bell ringers at stores. I have volunteered to ring a bell this year because I want to give back for all of the grace I have been shown. I have been given so many opportunities that I absolutely don’t deserve.
She hadn’t expected the ringer of her phone to go off when it did, as a matter of fact, she wasn’t expecting anything at all. It had been three weeks since he last spoke to her, and she had assumed that they were pretty much done. But the undeniable sound of Adelaide playing had changed that.
I like rings. Ringer reminds me of them. I love reading doorbells. They are proably fav thing to do. I really appreciate theis website it is quite enjoyable. Thanks
The church in the center of the town’s bell continued to ring and ring until nobody could take it and they looked for the bell ringer to tell him to stop… There was no bell ringer.
That’s the ringer. That’s the end of this fight.
She fell, hard. She was bleeding from the mouth, but she didn’t care. Her lip curled up into a smile and she heavily rose to her feet. She felt someone lift her arm in the air – the ref, probably – and heard boos and cheers greet her from behind the blinding lights.
i don’t have anything to say right now
the ringer on your cell phone is tho help you know when someone is calling, texting, or one of your notifications go off.
the plastic ring was on fire how i do not know why because wanted it to be
ringer…. ringer… dead ringer…. looks just like him. He was a dead ringer for the man I used to know, used to love. He looked like him but wasn’t him. That made it worse somehow. Looking like him. Making me remember him. Making me long for what I could never have again.
The phone didn’t stop singing. Incessant. People at the train station were starting to turn around and see who was not answering the phone. They saw a young girl staring at it, absolutely terrified of what came next. Picking up and saying “hello” didn’t seem like enough in this moment.
my phones ringer is very loud . it woke me up last night. what type of person would call me at 3
It very unnerving, the way her mouth curved when she smirked, her soft laugh, and the ease he felt in her presence. Sure, she was a brunette, not a blonde, and her eyes were brown, not green. But everything else about her screamed that she was a dead-ringer for his ex, Sophia, and he’d be stupid not to walk away now before he couldn’t.
I was sitting around the table. Silence was penetrating the air. I look around and see the sleeping eyes. It is all broken when my ringer goes off. No longer am I the recipient of crusty eyes, rather, eyes that shoot bullets through my skull. “Great” I thought. “I’m eating along again today.” I hear my fake laugh leave my lips as I silence it. “idiots” I mutter and the meeting drags on.
The telephone rang. He wrapped himself in a towel and stepped out of the bathroom.
“Hello?”
“…” There was no answer from the other side.
the muffled voices of gossip definitely rings in my everyday
The launderette obviously didn’t have spellcheck.
Augustus Waters is almost the ringer (the leader) of the whole situation, of the three of them. He leads the group with his positivity and optimism in the face of adversity!
does not ring a bell. dead ringer, perhaps? but not even that. that old rhyme about roses, dizzy heads, frocks that flared out..
you always have your ringer off. i know it’s because you don’t want her to hear it and it makes me feel like an awful person. maybe i AM an awful person. probably. but i can’t help feeling like i’m right for you and she’s wrong. i love you and she just tolerates you. am i wrong? i wish you would turn your ringer on.
She called it the ringer. I had left it somewhere, but I couldn’t find it. Somehow I knew it was my wife calling.
the phone is still ringing..
frozen fingertips against glass screens
eyes fluttering asleep
dogs still barking into the dead of night
all that I know is that I can’t hear you
where are you?
can you give me a call?
the phone is still ringing.
Kelsey Ringer had huge boobs in high school. One time Peter and her were skating next to eachother and Peter slipped and his hands went out and grasped her boob. We would tease Peter by yelling “Peter touched Kelsey” when he walked by. In code, we would yell PTK when the girls were around. We were jealous that his hand had graced her healthy boob. One time, I had an opportunity to kiss Kelsey. But I was afraid and didn’t make the move.
I could tell he most definitely wanted to ring’er up, but his sense of propriety wouldn’t allow it. Always a gentleman never a cad, but “Maybe,” he thinks, “a text wouldn’t be so bad?”
dead ringer, that’s for sure. the spitting image. the toll time took on his visage is told in the crevasses, like cracks in dry sand or the warping of wet wood. a shaky hand draws a knife from the heart of a plum, and juice runs down the edge of the blade to the handle. the old man is overripe, just like the plum he pops into his mouth.
He was a dead ringer for my ex-boyfriend, right down to the crooked smile and the dirty blond hair that lay just above his shoulders. It was hard to look at him, and know that even though I wanted to harbour bad feelings about him, I couldn’t be too quick to judge. I wondered if this is why Alice, my best friend, had set us up on this date. Maybe it was her own little joke, wanting to see how I would handle being with someone who looked so much like the guy who broke my heart.
I think this is funny word because it is a “dead RINGER” to a telephone noise. It also has several different connotations and meanings, but used in the way presented here “ringer” it is more difficult. This is also and
The annoying tones of his ringer woke him up yet again, right when he was in the middle of a fulfilling and vaguely erotic dream involving Zangief from Street Fighter and members of GI Joe.
The ringer took him 10 years back. His old memories was flashing inside his head. he could see himself going to schools with his buddies. Having fun. Without any worries of past or present.
I watched the bell ringers in the city square for about five minutes, then picked up my feet and walked to the Christmas tree that was being erected by the city council building. The first of December had arrived, and long before that, the lights had been hung, the wreaths had been hooked to the doors, and a certain cinnamon smell radiated from the restaurants and shops like a miniature, sweet sun around your head. I expected to taste peppermint in everything I ate and drank, and when it got chilly at night, I waited for the snow to fall.
I could hear it through the tent, the sensory vibrations of the drums and the cligning of the shaman’s rattle. A man’s voice rang out, like a copper ringer into the midst of the shadowy movements I could see on the surface of the walls. Throught the night, this voice, with it’s words of generations pasts, would carry me into the final passages of time.
He was spot on. His hair, his suit, his posture, even his comment. A dead ringer. I felt small. and angry.