• 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."
I guarantee, all fascination with titties exhibited today on this blog would evaporate immediately if the tits in question were attached to one’s very own chest, and one were then forced to drive to a mall, hunt/gather at a lingerie department, get measured by a bored clerk, and squeeze into a dozen different brassieres while viewing one’s cellulite in a dressing-room mirror.
In a perfect world, thought Muriel, there’d be a Brassiere of the Month Club, which would mail new bras to her door so she wouldn’t have to endure shopping for them.
(Or how I learned to stop worrying and love the bra) As it turns out, the brassiere serves an important secondary function: keeping your nipples from freezing off.
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