Then it looks like glowing alien goo. You only need three ingredients to make sparkly glitter slime. It's a funny and fanciful variation of one of the classic slime recipes and takes just minutes to make. Flubber is a non-sticky, rubbery sort of slime. This nontoxic slime is made from fiber and water.
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You can make this non-sticky, edible slime from two easy-to-find ingredients. It can be used as ectoplasm for costumes, haunted houses, and Halloween parties. This slime seems to have a life of its own! If you use wool or fur to charge up a piece of polystyrene foam and move it toward flowing slime, the slime will stop flowing and will appear to gel. This form of slime uses soap as its base.
Soap slime is good, clean fun. You can even play with it in the bathtub. Most slime recipes are nontoxic, but there are only a few you can actually eat and none that taste as good as this candy one! Here are additional edible slime recipes, including a chocolate version. This is an interesting nontoxic slime that has properties of both a liquid and a solid. It flows like a liquid, but it hardens when you squeeze it. This slime is easy to make. Yes, slime snot is gross but not as bad as playing with the real thing, right?
Here's a translucent type of slime that you can leave clear or can color greenish-yellow if you prefer. Actually, Silly Putty is a patented invention, so you can't make the real deal, but you can make Silly Putty simulants. This nontoxic slime recipe uses starch and glue.
The non-sticky goo flows like a liquid yet hardens when you squeeze it. Borax is used to form the cross-links in many types of slime, but it can irritate skin and isn't something you want young kids to eat. Fortunately, there are several recipes for the slime that don't include borax as an ingredient. Not that you're planning on holding a slime taste-test, but these recipes are safe enough to eat!
Share Flipboard Email. Helmenstine holds a Ph. They's dropping all bombs on Westminister and scaring the foreign office and this. Simon, his right hand man, "Slimmy's commanding the lads down here, so we'd need like, somebody else to do all motivating and shouting and this. He gives me the heeby jeebies, isn't it. The Field Marshall's face went white. A shadowed figure stepped from behind the tank, into the light of day. Most of us took at least one step back. Mr Slim visibly cowered. But about him, was an aura of terror. He exuded threat, murder carved into every dark recess of his features.
I had only ever met him once before, during a mock-combat training exercise on Bermuda. Half of his opponents, an entire batallion of Canadian mountain troops, had surrendered on the spot. The other half had simply fainted at the sight of him. Field marshall Harold moved wordlessly towards Field Marshall Slim. He looked over at Mr. Slim's France Plan, sellotaped to the side of the tank, and glared at it.
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Slim, "it's a work in pro-" The plan had peeled off the side of the tank under the intense gaze of Harold, and fallen to the floor. Slim took another step back. There was a moment of silence. Our terrifying guest nodded, turned, and with the same look of cold fury, walked away into the forest. We heard the crash of several falling trees, fading into the distance as he went.
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A shudder went around our group. Simon, "I's glad I's not a French right now. The mood lifted somewhat when Lord Chatfield, having missed the whole grisly scene, returned from the service station with an armful of Happy Meals, and some most interesting news. He explained as we all dug in to our dinners. He had the Italian garrison in for Egg Mc Muffins this morning, and they were being sent to Africa for some reason.
Marshall , Jul 14, October 5th, The sun rose over another Italian petrol station.
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Strange Italian birds chirped on the phone lines above as I was passed my morning stack of paperwork by a cabinet aide. I had taken to dealing with my office work sat on the flat back of the tank whenever we stopped for fuel. I did not like to admit the reason - it had emerged that while careening over cliffs was a lot of fun, it had disasterous consequences on one's handwriting if trying to pen a letter on the move. As I undid the string binding my morningly stack of forms and reports, I caught sight of Field Marhsal Harold's new plan for the French front.
I pulled it from the stack and examined it. He seemed to favour the 'direct' approach so often spurned by our more inventive Mr. Lord Chatfield, chief of the navy, peered over my shoulder, a bowl of cornflakes in one hand, his morning paper in the other. I turned around to meet his gaze, and found it to be one of deep confusion. Even hairy scary Harold isn't that fast, isn't it. We stared in awe. Churchill took it from him, a look of utmost disbelief still etched into his features. Fishing a monocle from between the curly-wurlys in his breast pocket, he began to read out loud.
Yesterday, at around 4pm, British forces entered an undefended Paris. Some sources theorize that the entire French army was engaged with the Spanish to the south, while others have speculated that the subsequent surrendeur was done more out of force of habit than anything else. This wild speculation was not good enough for THIS reporter however, and reports from troops on the ground indicate the entire French force ran away to hide in a forest when they caught sight of the British Field Marshall.
This man, known only to the men in hushed tones as "Harold", allegedly walked directly into the Palais Bourbon as its occupants jumped from the windows, sat down in the President's chair, and refused to move until news of full capitulation reached him. Upon recieving this, he made what has been described to me as "a terrible rumbling sound", before walking through the palace wall, and departing in the general direction of Rome.
It rapidly spread around our group. Simon, now perched on the barrel of the tank. He pulled his bowler hat down slightly, stood up and straightened his back. It reverberated beneath us. Slim emerged into the sunlight. You can't takes my Monster isn't it. What's I supposed to put on my Coco Pops, eh? Forget petrol, issue a general order to all tank crews. From there, aides, tank operators and even the Prime Minister began ferrying it to the machines in our convoy, filling the tanks' tanks with this new, potent fuel. After ten minutes, we were strapped back in, and ready to go.
Slim cautiously pushed the starter button, and the tank, with a sound like a mountain collapsing, thundered into life.
We's going to warp speed, yeah?