• 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."
Everything changed for Jolene that spring morning when she sat down in her cubicle, opened up her email account, found 372 new emails, calmly poured her coffee into the computer, walked out, took a cab directly to the airport and bought a one-way ticket to Thailand.
Dear Complete and Utter Bastard Jenkins, why don’t you just piss off you interfering busy-body thank you for the useful advice, don’t you think I have a brain of my own and am capable using a smegging search engine?! it was thoughtful of you to send me the information.
There’s every reason to feel light-hearted this morning - and every manner of e-mail waiting to change all that.
Checking his email, Henry thought Erections Like Steel!!!! sounded promising, until, that is, he thought about rust, and being the sensible man that he was, reluctantly hit the delete key.
Post holidays, all you really want is some nice fried eggs (and another holiday).
Samantha took her email forwarding obligations very seriously.
If you have to fit the message into one text, I will accept telegram speak, not text speak, mind, rather plain old telegram brevity, but if you send me an email, please at least type all of your words out, if you want me to overlook your horrendous grammar.
Google must sell my personal information to Asian women who seem worried about the size of my johnson and the veracity of my erections
She tapped out another email, red faced with frustration, bitterly muttering under her breath, hard won habit sweeping her eyes over the draft, double checking as always, that the recipient field was empty - it was hard covering up the mistake of emailing the boss, starting off with “Dear Moron..”
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