Where memory comes to rant and rave, and heroes still use Burma-Shave






What is Scrine?

• Scrine is the home of lost, forgotten, and lonely sentences.


What are the rules?

• 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.



Who can play?

• 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.


What about privacy?

• 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.



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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."



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Bibles

Not content with the current level of superstition in the world, the Gideons place Bibles in hotel rooms in the hopes that the occasional Agnostic might pick one up out of boredom or desperation, and Succumb.

    TAGS:  agnostics, boredom, bibles, desperation, Gideons


Peter’s briefcase contained only a mechanical pencil with no lead, a page torn out of a Gideon’s Bible with the phone number of a dead, Salt Lake City prostitute written on it, the keys to his 1972 Gran Torino which someone had stolen ten day earlier after kicking him in the groin outside of some greasy, Memphis diner, and the rusty, .22 caliber pistol his mother had told him to hide nearly 40 years ago, placed into his then small hands while his father slowly bled to death in the next room, so when the dried up old woman on the barstool next to him leaned over and whispered into his ear that she was the witch of dreams come true and that she was about to turn him into one of whatever was in that case sitting next to his feet, Peter didn’t laugh or look away or even doubt what the woman said, but simply nodded in agreement, having known all along that he should have had better memories.

    TAGS:  bibles, memories, briefcase


Anarchist Fun :: Br. Ezra

Andy merrily shredded his bible in his shiny new Dadaist machine.

    TAGS:  anarchy, bibles, Dadaism


 

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