the old pirate wrote on Mar 5th 2001, 03:57:58 about
crush
Rating: 12 point(s) | Read and rate text individuallyKnow this as an immutable truth of the universe: Every American boy had a crush on Tinker Bell.
| Amount of texts to »crush« | 29, and there are 29 texts (100.00%) with a rating above the adjusted level (-3) |
| Average lenght of texts | 151 Characters |
| Average Rating | 1.586 points, 1 Not rated texts |
| First text | on Apr 10th 2000, 22:40:26 wrote bwonder2 about crush |
| Latest text | on Apr 26th 2005, 09:07:31 wrote oi about crush |
| Some texts that have not been rated at all
(overall: 1) |
on Apr 26th 2005, 09:07:31 wrote |
Random associativity, rated above-average positively
Texts to »Crush«
Julianne wrote on Apr 13th 2000, 05:04:57 about
crush
Rating: 6 point(s) | Read and rate text individually
Josef wrote on Apr 22nd 2000, 17:47:42 about
crush
Rating: 1 point(s) | Read and rate text individually
Well, I've got a crush on a girl that I've never really talked to, and probably never will. She lives in a different city which is unknown to me, and will soon be going home. So... where does this feeling come from? Is it purely a physical attraction? And why the hell do we call it a »crush?« Curse you, Seventeen Magazine!
agnes wrote on May 8th 2000, 20:29:30 about
crush
Rating: 2 point(s) | Read and rate text individually
It's really not any different from those orange-flavored popsicles with vanilla ice cream in the inside, no?
Well a distant cousin maybe. Let's share recipes.
bwonder2 wrote on Apr 10th 2000, 22:40:26 about
crush
Rating: 5 point(s) | Read and rate text individuallyI have a new crush every week. This week his name is not important. His missing phone call is.
le merle blanc wrote on May 19th 2000, 19:21:25 about
crush
Rating: 1 point(s) | Read and rate text individually
Everyone's had a crush on someone, and I can see why it's called a 'crush'. To look at her is to crush one's hopes like ripened, bursting fruit; to smell her hair and know she uses strawberry shampoo crushes the heart like a new pack of cigarettes; to talk to her and keep it against all the dictates of will and urge to trivialities crushes the spirit like that gentleman in Salem, Massachusetts, during the witch trials, who, after many stones were piled atop him, was asked a last time to confess; ribs and organs surely grinding to powder and paste, breath only leading over steep cliffs of broken glass to next breath, he wheezed: 'More weight'.
For, indeed, any who have loved so desperately and completely, deep in their broken hearts, despite all the agony of unrequited desire, must agree: 'More weight'.
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