• 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 weep for all the sentences that have ever been deleted before their time... and then I think of all the sentences that never were, and I feel like a selfish bastard.
I thought about it before I hit the delete key, I really did, promise, because the delete key is death for those of us without any resurrection powers, and I don’t take anything lightly, especially deleting another person’s Scrine entry, and certainly not our friendship, and certainly, beyond reason, really, any concept of resurrection at all, but that’s way off topic and I don’t want that to happen, not when all I’m trying to say is that I thought I knew what the problem was when really I didn’t know at all, which I should have known all along because I know about as much about html and css as I do about what makes a giraffe’s neck work, which isn’t much, although I suspect it’s kind of like this apology, some sort of combination involving muscles and gravity, the idea that hitting the delete key on a friend’s Scrine entry is like an unchewed apple three-fourths the way down a giraffe’s neck -- it’s not coming back, no if’s, and’s, or but’s about it.
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