猫咪头像图片我的宿舍英语作文
在日复一日的学习、工作或生活中,大家总免不了要接触或使用作文吧,通过作文可以把我们那些零零散散的思想,聚集在一块。怎么写作文才能避免踩雷呢?以下是小编精心整理的我的宿舍英语作文,供大家参考借鉴,希望可以帮助到有需要的朋友。
我的宿舍英语作文 篇1
my dormitory room is on the cond floor . it is small and crowded . t he da rk green walls and the dir ty white ceiling make the room em dark , and thu s even smalle r than it is . as you walk into the room, you ar e stopped shor t by my bed which fills half of the room . t he two la rge windows over the bed ar e hidden by heavy dark gold dr apes . against the wall on your left , pushed into a corner behind the head of the bed , is a large bookca which is cr ammed with papers , book s , and knick-knack s , wedged in between the bookca and the wall opposite the bed is a small gr ey met al desk . it has a brown wooden chair which ems to fill the lef t end of the room . stuf fed unde r the desk is a wooden wastepaper bas ket over - flowing with pape r and debris . the wall above the bookca and des k is complet
快乐心态
ely taken up with two small poste rs . on the right hand of the room is a nar row clot with clothes , s hoes , hats , tennis racquets , and boxes bulging out of its sliding door s . everytime i walk out of the door , i think ,“now i know what it is like to live in a clot . ”
我的宿舍英语作文 篇2
my dormitory room is on the cond floor. it is small and crowded. the dark green walls and the dirty white ceiling make the room em dark, and thus even smaller than it is, as youwalk into the room, you are stopped short by my bed which fills half of the room. the two large windows over the bed are hidden by heavy dark gold drapes. against the wall on your left, pushed into a corner behind the head of the bed, is a large bookca which is crammed with papers, books, and knick-knacks, wedged in between the bookca and the wall opposite the bed is a small grey metal desk. it has a brown wooden chair which ems to fill the left end of the room.stuffed under the desk is a wooden wastepaper basket overflowing with paper and debris. the wall above the bookca and desk is completely taken up with two small posters. on the right hand of the room is a narrow clos
卢乙et with clothes,shoes, hats, tennis racquets, and boes bulging out of its sliding doors. everytime i walk out of the door, i think, now i know what it is like to live in a clot.
我的宿舍英语作文 篇3
My dormitory room is on the cond floor.
It is small and crowded. The dark green walls and the dirty white ceiling make the room em dark, and thus even smaller than it is, As youwalk into the room, you are stopped short by my bed which fills half of the room. The two large windows over the bed are hidden by heavy dark gold drapes.
Against the wall on your left, pushed into a corner behind the head of the bed, is a large bookca which is crammed with papers, books, and knick-knacks, Wedged in between the bookca and the wall opposite the bed is a small grey metal desk. It has a brown wooden chair which ems to fill the left end of the room.Stuffed under the desk is a wooden wastepaper basket overflowing with paper and debris. The wall above the bookc
a and desk is completely taken up with two small posters. On the right hand of the room is a narrow clot with clothes,shoes, hats, tennis racquets, and boxes bulging out of its sliding doors. Everytime I walk out of the door, I think, Now I know what it is like to live in a clot. at it is like to live in a clot.hat it is like to live in a clot.
超音速巡航我的宿舍英语作文 篇4kindness
compared with the forty year old shabby dormitory i am living in now, the one i lived in for three years in high school was heaven: three students shared one brand new suite with air conditioners and a bathroom.
in three years time we changed it thoroughly:the color of the floor turned from bright pink into muddy gray, and the clot a hive of incts proliferating among piles of rotten fruit.and our masterpiece was the bathroom, a never drying swamp which rved as the habitat of various kinds of mold, and even rodents, rats would occasionally take the trouble to pay us a visit, and.., all three of us felt like sobbing when we at last had to say good bye to our lovely filthy dormitory. maybe it is becau that the dormitory had change
d us as well as wed changed it.
塑料衣架>40英语怎么读
the first lesson our dormitory taught us was to look after ourlves. frankly speaking, we were not good students at all. i still remember the underwear that was soaked in soapy water for one and a half years before it was finally thrown away. almost each of the boys dormitories had gradually developed its own unique "fragrance" usually a miture of rotten fruit, unwashed socks, stunk towels and some junk food. we could tell one dormitory from another by sniffing instead of looking. our tolerance towards untidiness was amazing.
however, in spite of all this, we really did make some progress. bit by bit, we started to wash dirty clothes before they stunk, cleaned the garbage bin when it could hold no more trash, we even ud brushes in a not-sc-successful attempt to refurbish the floor. the point was that we were not obeying any order, we did every bit of the cleaning for ourlves, becau we wanted to live in a better place. though nothing we did could be called an achievement, it was the first time we fully bore the conquences of our behavior, and took the responsibility.
杭州最低工资
thus it was not surprising that i often found mylf the only one to clean up my university dormitory which looked no better than a garbage bin when my roommates felt normal of it.
when talking about our dormitory life, and probably all the dormitory life, we should never leave out one thing. this was what we called "bed talks". though it was considered "illegal,"there was nothing to stop us from deliberately starting a heated discussion right after lights were out. it was our favorite and the only way of ending our day, and we were as punctual for it as our parents are for work. what was the most common topic?girls, of cour! what other topics were there for three energetic adolescent males lying comfortably in bed? we judged them,ranked them, argued over them night after night without feeling the slightest n of boredom for three whole years. were we maniacs? who is not a maniac at eighteen?