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A great place to keep your fantastic ideas, like, "Hey! I need to write more sentences about crickets and English gentlemen with unruly beards."
For kicks let’s say that letters represent people and go from there, realizing then that words are families, books like neighborhoods or societies, libraries like nations, sentences like a string of universes, which leaves us with only that one ongoing, unanswerable, naggingquestion - what are the ducks?
When it comes to walking straight lines here on this farm, the order goes: cow, duck, chicken, rabbit, cat, human, dog; yet oddly enough, when it comes to telling a straight story, the order goes: cow, duck, chicken, rabbit, cat, dog, human.
In idle moments, Bill wondered what his name had to do with an invoice, or the front end of a duck and what it might mean in other languages.
Standing ankle deep in the bills, he sometimes thought, “Duck slaughterhouse, which seemed both funny and sad, just like his floor.
In a dream I had last night, aliens were turning people into animals, and even though I’d been turned into a cat, I remember these things happening - when I ran, it was in great big strides like I still had two long legs, I was walking through a downtown and came across an art gallery whose sidewalk out front was made entirely of headstones, laid on their backs, and that I went inside the gallery after being lured in by a woman who seemed to be the owner and was offering me a slice of cake, and that once inside, I kept looking out a side window, insisting to people who passed between the buildings that I had not been turned into a cat, but was, in fact, a duck.
Quack like a duck!
“Hmmmm, smells like dead duck—and I mean that in the best possible way”
Richard ran for the house, ducks crashing to the ground all around him.
mouse on duck, bake on duck, goli on duck, geez, give the bird a break! (e on duck)
Yet another day was ruined because of the duck’s stubborn refusal to stop quacking down the chimney.
Based on conversations with a local animal psychic, Bob was made aware of the fact that ducks have a propensity to lean towards evolution for an answer, rather than faith, and tend to believe that all creatures will, if given enough time, eventually evolve into ducks; oddly enough, this “end of the line” type of evolutionary thinking, Bob realized, is shared by most cats and many humans, which left him in quite a pickle - was he turning into a duck or a cat, or was he already as good as he could get?
They whirled across the floor, sparking occasionally as their shells scraped across the concrete, criss-crossing paths and twirling under the stars, all of them happily oblivious to the lurking danger that was the hidden duck.
Billy was eventually asked to leave the yoga class, further convincing him that the dabbler ducks in the front row were receiving special treatment.
i have seen the rock bottom depths of pseudosnobbery, after meeting my sisterinlaw at the panera bread, attached to the starbucks and actually purchasing a loaf; which i later fed to the ducks along with my sincerest apologies.
gothic scene-setting, neo-nazi duck attacks, animals on a road trip (into said gothic scene?) and a calming, sylvan glade with tweeting; anyone?
When Nola told the ducks they could move in until after the bird flu epidemic had passed, she had no way of knowing just how much time they would spend in the bathroom.
My duck-bots will have better weapons than yours.
Is it because duckling sounds a bit like underling that the word seems so ominous, or is there something else going on?
And your achievement towers like a smoking chimney stack, There’ll be a quack and right there at your feet, A little duck will stand.
Becky huddled quietly in the corner of the ceiling, giggling behind her sinuous fingers, and as the various ‘people’ walked by they found themselves suddenly and brilliantly transformed into all manner of creatures, especially mouses, coyotes, ducks, drop bears, scrinebirds and elephants.
As all the giggles died away in the distance, the giant yellow duck removed her caped costume - emblazoned with QB - pulled on her boots and strolled back into the office.
It’s a disturbing sort of day when your friend decides to ring you up, quack and then hang up.
Becky raced down the lane, giggling and laughing, yelling confusing and contextless words, weaving and darting between the explosive rivers of colour, watching all the ducks bloom, the flowers exfoliate and the mammoths dance, and running recklessly forward towards the shimmering, magnetic and dazing light just that little bit further ahead.
I was a bit disappointed to see that the sentence titled ‘duck’ wasn’t about ducks, nor was it about giants, nor even about skeletons or pirates, so I’ve made my own and we can now merrily continue babbling inanely about giant ducks or whatever else takes our fancy.
I know there are some who worry incessantly that ducks are up to no good, but personally, it’s the terror bird I’m losing sleep over.
The ducks, with a slightly mad glint in their eyes, marched onward not looking to the left, not looking to the right - and not daring to look at Becky or the Tall Man who both, in their own ways made strange things happen - however, as they went by, I saw one sneak a peek at Henry.
Confronted, Henry denied knowing the call girl, but was soon caught in his lie when the topic of ducks came up.
I swear, if it’s not ducks, then it’s ants and if it’s not ants, then it’s spiders - the little bastards parasailing in numbers from the roof - I’ve stopped looking up because when you look up and see ten of the little buggers and then hit them with a full blast of bug spray and they still keep coming - you don’t really want to know how many more are darting about on the ceiling.
Take one duck, roll it out flat, watch it boing back up again.
Dr. Brennan plans to team up with a biomechanics expert to build a transparent model of a female duck because she wants to see exactly what a giant duck phallus does during mating. (full story in todays NY Times)
A nun walked into a bar with a duck tucked underneath her arm, she saddled up to the bar and nodded at the horse trying to look nonchalant while tossing back rye shots and smoking a Swisher Sweet.
“I don’t care what you say, ducks do NOT have bristles” argued Gertie with such passion and energy that a wee bit of spittle managed to jump across, landing neatly on the tip of a slightly grossed out Betty’s nose.
Sometimes the title is better than the sentence could ever be.
I think my brain just snapped.
Tomorrow there’ll be sheepdog trials, fairy floss and a quacking duck or two.
The novely of the mechanical duck had long since worn off: it’s chiming quack and clanking about in random circles was beginning to drive me crazy, and there were another four to construct and soak-test before next Saturday.
The ‘duck looked rather startled, shrugged his wings and leapt into the water, bottom up.
I don’t know why I hadn’t realised it before now, but suddenly it’s all so clear that the number of the duck is ...
Scrine.com is not a group blog where members post single sentences; members are not snarky lit-minded geeks of questionable repute; and no mention of ducks of any variety is ever made.
I’ve been watching the ducklings in my front paddock grow up over the last few weeks and I can’t help but feel a tinge of sadness that soon they will be all grown up and all familial bonds forgotten as need drives them to fight over mates and territory.
“You see,” he began, “it’s the duck in this story who has the dignity, rather the human being who’s requesting the pleasure of the duck’s company behind the elm tree, because I think it goes without saying that no self-respecting duck would ever be caught dead engaging in such reprehensible behavior with anyone from Minnesota or, for that matter, any state with such a large contingent of people with Nordic ancestry.”
The Stonebender family was grimly sure there were too many ducks in the city pond anyway, and that nobody would notice if a few went missing, at dusk, say, right around holiday time.
The duck on the woman’s plate had obviously been the victim of murder, but what was even more obvious was Rufus’ reckless desire for the woman; “Easy, my friend,” Schuster whispered to Rufus as the woman sucked noisely at one of the duck’s greasy leg bones, “lest our dinner companion decide to serve you as the next course.”
I’m beginning to see a constant theme involving ducks in my writing and frankly, it’s disturbing.
Duck always wore dark sunglasses when he taught elementary school classes so the children couldn’t see when he was asleep.
Squirrels, cats and ducks are the real axis of evil.
The chickens, ducks and other such cluckery gathered around the call to war, each one pecking or scritching their names to the document and all that it heeded for the days to come.
You think ducks are trouble…
Jimmy, high on saffron, thought that if the Spice Cops knocked on his door and and accused him of violating probation, he could get off by saying, “Jimmy’s not here, I’m Jimmy’s duck.”
Unlike most aquatic birds, it is thought that decedents of The Duck have the ability to make their own bread because oftentimes they float around paying no mind to any grain lobbed their way, though no one has ever caught a Misses The Duck in an apron, yet.
that keith stopped hugging the duck, and started writing again (that would cheer me up).
A wooden duck with big, black wooden boots.
The better part of the day was spent making sure the ducks hadn’t snuck up on us again to watch us watch TV.
The censors didn’t block it as obscenity until ducks got involved.
“It’s a common mistake,” the duck assured me, “but sure as I’m standing here talking to you, all ducks are hobos by human definition, just without the bindle stick or any romantic notion that riding in cold, empty boxcars is fun.”
“It’s a common mistake,” the hobo assured me, “but sure as I’m standing here talking to you, there’s no way in hell all those ducks would make it south every winter if it weren’t for us hobos helping load them into the boxcars.”
“It’s a common mistake,” I assured myself, “to think that I have better things to do than think about hobos and ducks all day, but sure as I’m sitting here writing this, I know I don’t.”
If you quack, you sound like a duck.
If you sound like a duck, you may also look like a duck, if you look like a duck some people may step away from you when you get too close due to their duck phobias.
The ducks hid in the closet.
And then it all made sense, he hadn’t seen a duck in weeks.
“Oh, there’ll be ducks involved,” God told the stenographer, “but if I mention them here they’ll never take my word seriously.”
Henry looked at his belly sticking up through the bubbles, happy for the little yellow ducks who climbed up when got tired of floating.
During the 1970s, most flocks experienced a dramatic increase in a cappella dance parties, but this was mostly on account of the difficulty ducks had in successfully handling the 8-track equipment.
After buying some cotton candy, the mathematicians hurried to the animal pavilion to listen to the Fibonacci ducks quack.
Feeling noncompetitively scientific, Omar undressed the duck
Some said his imagination was like a small group of well-mannered ducks sipping beer in a pub, politely trying not to look down the waitress’ low-cut blouse as she delivered the second round, but he always scoffed at the notion, reminding them that ducks had an eye on either side of their head, and that the very idea that they could look away from something so tempting, no matter how polite they tried to be, was simply ludicrous.
The young duck slowly opened his Christmas present from Grandma, hoping desperately isn’t wasn’t another pair of socks.
One duck was never going to be enough.
The duck looked at his watch, unconcerned.
Whatever the world thinks of ducks, the ducks know better.
One cat, one man, two pigeons, no ducks, a cup of coffee, a dash of weirdness, and a variety of baked goods.
As Henry watched the ducks swim up and down the creek on such a cold day, he found himself growing increasingly irritated by their nonchalant attitude.
Pursue your dreams, they said, but my doctorate in Duck Metaphors has not once helped me land a job.
I hadn't thought about ducks at all this year until I started writing this sentence.
The duck burrowed out of the tightly wound hair, stretched it's back leg, gave a duckly wiggle and flew off to places unknown.
The Chief wished someone with a companion duck would move in, just so he could pretend he'd seen it all.
"The duck climbs onto my chest and alerts me if I'm on the verge of having a seizure," the man told the Chief, "but sometimes I think he's just after the cracked corn I keep in my shirt pocket."
They quack and they waddle and they run away if you don't approach slowly.
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