• Scrine is the home of lost, forgotten, and lonely sentences.
• Play nice. Be kind. Post only single sentences.
• Scrine gives everyone plenty of rope to play with, but reminds everyone that even the longest rope is capable of hanging a person.
• Censorship is ugly, but still not the ugliest bird in the sky. Happily, this has never been necessary.
• The appropriateness of all sentences will remain the sole discretion of Scrine's tender.
• Anyone. Reading along costs nothing but time.
• Membership is required to post your own sentences. Joining is quick and painless.
• With membership comes the unique privilege of calling yourself a Scriner.
• Your information will never be sold, given away, shared, or even traded for an unimaginably delicious slice of pie.
• The above sentence may be the only sentence on this site that is 100% true.
Use this space for notes and reminders to yourself.
This is a private space. Only you will see your notes.
Expiration date is not required, only if you want the note to magically disappear.
A great place to keep your fantastic ideas, like, "Hey! I need to write more sentences about crickets and English gentlemen with unruly beards."
After their 6th shooter Mouse convinced Br. Ezra to call Keith to see if Pinocchio would defend them during their pending dangling participle trial.
Each time I attempt to post what I hope will be a truly memorable sentence I am confronted with such exquisite emptiness that I find myself wondering if I have used all of the words alloted to me in this lifetime therefore, if this is true, then perhaps my time would be better spent in seeking silence putting aside my dictionary and thesaurus for good.
Sidran tells me that 40 is new the 20 but I don’t remember making those funny old man noises when I got in or out of a chair when I was 20 and this is only one of the many small indignities thrust upon my aging carcass that is now being overrun by hair (except on my head).
I have been leafing listlessly through catalogues all morning wondering what type of living room furniture best defines me.
The only reason I tried the new church out was because Rev. Isabelle was so damn cute and I found that I had to resist the overpowering urge to kneel before her and pay homage to the new life within her by kissing her swollen belly.
Jan van de Boer handed me a beer and told me to chill as he knew things would work out in the end but, being a belligerent mix of Irish, German and Portuguese, I wanted to grab a pair of garden sheers and perform a manicure on the hands that violated me; Van de Boer tsked, tsked me sadly saying visiting violence on an enemy never solved a problem but I disagreed and after kicking Jan in the nuts I found that I felt positively giddy.
Life is really not so absurd when you cut back the thin veneer of the lies we tell ourselves to feel better – Santa Claus, God, Justice or a Beatles reunion – and just behold our own faces staring back at us from the abyss.
Copyright @ 2005 - 2017
143 queries in 0.9815 seconds