Why do girls shove their feet in my mouth

Why does this girl laugh when she shoves her foot in my mouth?

http://www.chacha.com/question/why-does-this-girl-laugh-when-she-shoves-her-foot-in-my-mouth

She may be laughing because it tickles and feels good. Or maybe she’s just flirting with you and wants to be more than friends!

Why am I always putting my foot in my mouth around this girl??

http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20090911084124AAThN5G

Hey Taylor Personally I don’t think nationality comes with barrier. Its just a matter of heart between two beautiful guy and gal. I would rather appreciate you if you look out for the responses from her. Even if you say some lame things sti…

Related Questions Answered on Y!Answers

what do you think? -2 pieces of my writing?

Q: Let’s Never Cross Paths Againyou say you hate this partcrushing dreams- one after anotherbut try and take a walk in our shoeswe wait for the words to make us or break ustry and be the one to get your dreams crushedI watch the firey words slither through your lipsand pierce my heart with burning unkindnessyour harsh and quickyou tell them they dont have the skillyou tell me i dont have anything at allwhy did you think i would understand?you took my future, put it in your pocketand made sure we would never cross paths againyour eyes bleed lies as you tell her she doesnt have the desireand you turn to her and tell her she doesnt have the skillcurruption leads to destructionbut tell me im not good enoughtell me again and again, i dont caretake my future, put it in your pocketand make sure we never cross paths againso we’ll kick our way out of the burning ashes you burried us underthis team of so-called “casualties”will rebuild from scratchand you tell us we dont have the desireour drive and will power will burn through your skin with the fire of regretgo head, take our future, put it in your pocket,and ill make sure we never cross paths again.and a short story-I took a deep breath, trying to absorb my surroundings. Finally, the day I had been awaiting my entire life had arrived. I gazed up at the building that stood before me. It was overwhelmingly large, with cold brown and red bricks. The students were swarming the front door like ants trying to get to a piece of candy left on the sidewalk. I felt small, out of place, and scared. The sound of giggling, gossiping high school girls and obnoxious football jocks was ringing in my ears. I was about to take my first reluctant step forward when a tall, blonde girl stepped in my way. Her long, straight hair skimmed my face and I caught a whiff of her strong smelling hair products. She was a thin girl, wearing a jean mini skirt with a pink top. Her bright pink toe nails perfectly matched the color of her high heals. I looked down at my dirty white gym shoes and my stomach started to hurt. I felt uncomfortable in my too-loose, too-short jeans and my awkward fitting T-shirt. My hair was in a tight pony tail. I couldn’t move another step. My feet felt like they were implanted in the pavement. My head began to hurt and I wanted to hide from all of this. I had always imagined the first day of high school, but never like this. I was startled out of my daze by the annoying ring of the bell. The students filed into the school, pushing and shoving their way through a door as if it were a race to get inside. I took a step. It felt like a death walk. There were students behind me, running into me like I wasn’t even there. I had to pick up the pace. I looked around me, savoring the last bit of pre-high school freedom I had left. I had lost all motivation to go inside. My hands were sweating and my heart felt like it was about to jump out of my chest as I neared the entrance. There was a light tap on my shoulder and I turned around to see where it had come from. Standing behind me, was short girl with frizzy brown hair and braces. My best friend. “Hey, Jess!” When I saw her crooked teeth, metal mouth smile, I couldn’t help but feel happy again. The warmth of her presence made me feel like I was exactly where I belonged. I didn’t care about fitting in anymore. I didn’t care about being popular. I didn’t want to look like the girl with pink heals, and I didn’t want to be another gossiping high school clone. I wanted to be me, as long as I had my best friend by my side. “You look a little sick!” she said. “Are you ok?” I smiled and said, “I am now.”yes the first one is a poem=] and the first line is supposed to be a title=/

A: Your writing is amazing! It’s descriptive, it draws you in, and it actually makes you feel the character’s emotions. There’s just a few grammatical and spelling errors, but other than that, you are a very talented writer. Was the first one a song or a poem? It was brilliant! Keep up your writing, because you could go far with it 🙂

What is your honest opinion on this short story?

Q: (Constructive criticism is very much so welcome.)I am hollow imperfection. Your apparently serene words of protest are ignorant and apathetic. They only prove that you have failed to apprehend that what I do does not wound me; it instead cures me. Perfects these imperfections.****I am seated in your office once again, confined in your supposedly soothing prison. I refuse to lay atop your lunatics couch, choosing instead a much stiffer chair that seems be a reflection of your hardened gaze. I don’t belong here. In this office or this nuthouse. I’m not psychotic like the rest of these abnormalities; the only crime that has led me to this cage is my fatness.Shameful, indubitable, disgusting fatness. Pinpointed in my pillowy thighs and rotundly, vomitous mess of a stomach. I haven’t lost enough weight: I’m as revolting as ever, and am sure to have my nauseating weight increase even more with the ways in which they shove it down my throat. Food. Can’t they see I’m repulsive enough? Have they somehow overlooked my incontestable flab?You’re talking now, and goggling at me with your bulging grey eyes. I can as good as see your mind formulating insults that properly describe me, know you hate me just as much as everyone does. As if as a confirmation to my thoughts, you pull out a tray of cookies and offer them to me; you’re probably eager to see the fat girl scramble to devour them all. I refuse to give you the satisfaction and instead shake my head no.I can vaguely remember a time when upon seeing a chocolate-chip cookie I thought not of jiggling thighs and the foul three hundred and eighty nine calories within, but instead of it’s mouth-watering relish. Oh, how dreadful I was! So sickeningly fat!Tuning out your monotonous questions and theories has been effortless enough so far, but one statement hits me hard and sends a violent shudder from my brain to my toes.”You’ve gained weight, the doctors tell me. You’re up to eighty pounds.” You declare with gross pleasure, smiling a wide, yellowed grin. There’s a piece of lettuce lodged between your front two teeth and seeing this sends a wave of inexplicably intense revulsion and hatred throughout my entire body. I want to wrench your vulture-like head from her lumpy body and snap each of those flawless manicured crimson nails in half. Excruciatingly vicious thoughts began to taint my mind and it was evident at that moment that every fat-ridden fiber of my being despised you with a passionate wrath.Perhaps you interpreted the choleric blackness twisting my face, for your previously thrilled beaming has turned grim. “Can I ask you something?” You query somberly, casting me a somewhat perplexed sideways glance. I want to stand up and screech and strike you across the face. I want to experience the intoxicating gratification of seeing your face become the same bloodied color as your nails, just like the overwhelming satisfaction of losing another pound. But something or someone silently tells me not to. So I nod my head, scowling.”Why do you think you do this? Why are you starving yourself?” You’re nearly tearful. At first I don’t know what to say. Then immediately the answer seems quite clear, as if it had been there the whole time.”I’m not starving myself… I’m perfecting my emptiness.” Somehow I choke this out, and the feebleness of my voice petrifies me. And suddenly, everything is terrifying.Your pensive face, the looming gray walls that confine me, the inky, approaching shadows: all frighten me into an unbearable state of mind. My breathing rapid and uneven and my feet wobbling beneath me, I shove myself off that straight-backed chair and burst from your trap. My feet carry me to my empty room of their own accord and I somehow find myself collapsing on my knees onto the frigid hospital floor and lifting my mattress up, searching desperately for the stolen bottle of pain-killers lurking beneath it. My hand closes around the bottle and I have never felt such a passionate relief, a reassurance that brings chilling goosebumps to my arms and a smirk to my chattering lips. Briskly and with feverish delight I pour a glass of water from the pitcher placed upon my bed-side table. If only takes me a minute of anxious struggle to unscrew the top off the pain-killers, and only another minute to down the entire content of the bottle with the aid of my water.Instantly, I feel exhausted and keel over onto my bumpy mattress. Upon this crumpling, a series of memories begins to reel inside my thoughts.Was this my life flashing before me eyes? How cliche.I see mother, and she’s not dead at all, but alternatively she’s alive and just as enchanting as ever, offering me her hand. I am ecstatic.I see my father and my baby brother chuckling and grinning, father wiping his glasses on his black polo shirt. I grow happier.I see a skeletal body and I feel guilty when this is the image that makes me most euphoric.They cut off the last sentence:I died confused.Oh, and to answer your question, bballgal. I am thirteen years old and a freshman in high school.And this, is my passion.

A: oh wow i am truly impressed. amazing… how old are you? This was so detailed and so beautifully made. It is like a masterpiece. wonderful. please continue writing this. I like how it is in her view so it is what she is thinking. so the reader has to figure out that that is not how it is. She is not really fat. very descripitive 🙂

I had a dream that death came after me…?

Q: I had this dream that we were in the desert and there was this zoo-type thing. I went down to it but every time i tried to open the doorknob, it was made of light and my hand just sank through it. i was told by the man who invented the doorknobs that he trusted me so i was permitted to open it, i had to use a needle and thread. so i threaded a needle (i had the needle, but i ran around randomly asking for thread until a very nice lady in all maroony-mauve colors gave me a peice of white thread) and i held the point where the needle joins the thread in the light. then i was able to grab the doorknob and open it. when i got inside, there was a guy (he looked just like Peter Petrelli from Heroes, except he kind of looked wild like he had rabies or something) in a cage. he was gnashing his teeth at me and stuff. the second cage was empty, and just around the corner, I peeked around and saw Death. Death looked just like a dementor, but was perfectly still, sitting cross-legged on a tile floor. when i saw death, i wasn’t me, i was the person who was with me. I was my caretaker/friend/orsomething. i went out and grabbed me (suddenly i was me again) and my friend said, “we have to get out of here. NOW.” I didn’t know why but my friend did. i stepped outside and suddenly we were in a desert. i went over to pat a camel. then i was my caretaker/friend again and i was telling the guy who was in charge of the zoo (Mohinder from Heroes) what was wrong. there was a Peter Petrelli out there too but he was normal. Mohinder asked me what was wrong and I said Death was inside. Mohinder asked why that was such a bad thing and i told him “Death once told us, ‘I will come after you. I will not stop until you are dead and gone, and then I will rule’.” i didnt know how i knew it but i knew it was true. Mohinder looked scared and Peter did too. suddenly I was Mohinder. I left the caretaker/friend chatting with Peter and went into the room where death was. i pulled off his arms and torso from his legs. i pulled off his head and shoved them all under a bench (as it turns out death was made of cardboard.) then I ran outside into the desert and said that it wasn’t death. the companion/friend lady was over with Me-who-was-not-me (she WASN’T me, she was tall and blond and pretty T_T) Me-who-was-Mohinder said “Death” wasn’t really death. but me-who-was-Mohinder was still scared. then Peter Petrelli said, “but if that wasn’t death, then who was?” then, as i watched from the sidelines (i guess i was some sort of spirity thing here,) the clay sphynx-shaped throne that Peter Petrelli was sitting on swallowed him till all we saw was his feet. one of his shoes came off, then he was swallowed completely. That was Death who swallowed Peter. The whole time peter and Mohinder were talking i was being slowly pulled backwards and then i was in Me-who-was-not-me again (blond girl) i was running and running, and i turned to go back into the zoo. I just knew that if i made it to where fake-death was, under the bench, i would be safe. just before i was about to turn the corner into the tiny hallway and safety, two hands covered my mouth. their fingernails were sooo ugly the ends were flat and the tips were slightly yellow, not white. They were big hands, too, and strong. they were a womans hands though. she led me up to the second cage. then I became the caretaker/friend and i saw that the first cage was empty. I also saw that the wild Peter petrelli-clone was in the second cage. Death was leading a struggling me-who-was-not-me into the cage to be killed by wild peter petrelli-clone.i ran towards me, but then the hands got me too. I looked around for Real Death, but the second cage door was shut and the me-wh-was-not-me was screaming and hitting the cage door and trying to climb out while the wild peter-clone slowly approached. the real peter was dead, stiff as a board and propped up against the wall. Mohinder-me was behind Death who was holding Caretaker-Me. although i couldnt see him, i knew he was there. then the Deaths hands that held me so tightly let go, i knew she had been forced to let go. I couldnt see him, but i knew that Mohinder-me was tied up, gagged and forced to the floor. the last thing i saw was blond-me about to climb over the gate through the small gap between ceiling and fence to freedom, but wild peter-petrelli-clone got me-who-was-not-me first. he dragged me-who-was-not-me down by the ankles, screaming. i sensed Mohinder-me break loose of the rope that tied his ankles and the hands let go of me again and everything went white, then black, then i woke up.WHAT THE HECK DID THAT MEAN???

A: Well, I’m a Christian so this may seem religious on my interpretation.Well the Scripture says that God opens doors and from my understanding, I’d think the doorknob maker is symbolic to God being the one who trusts you. White represents purity so you got in the door b/c you had the purity to get you in? The cages could be like trapped possibly by God to keep them from hurting you with the gnashing and stuff so he was crazy or whatever and you know he’d more than likely hurt you or try to if he was out of that cage. Death I think is symbolic to the devil/satan and he was trying to kill you and the leader thing and take control or something is satan every single day his mission is to kill,steal, and destroy you. He was trying to obviously kill you. The person who your friend/caregiver was could have been your guidance telling you you needed out or needed to watch out b/c the cages held bad things and the path thing wasn’t safe. A desert seems like a difficult place. Hiding under a bench and the hands covering you mouth could mean that it blocks what you say? And then that guy being eaten then trying to hurt you by death could be that Peter was engulfed into the mission to hurt you and worked against you or was used by the devil? Death getting you into the cage could be tangling you up in something or trapping you into a small area or something. Being over the gate to Freedom could be you got out of it.Sorry this seems so vague and stupid, just random thoughts towards it all. Hope it helps!