Yesterday Scrine rejected me too, and my pain was completely squared.
I’m not sure what causes me more trouble, the wind or the things content to be blown around by it.
I have two documents testifying to the fact that I am one-half of the funnest couple in Fayetteville…at least according to Mr. Sedaris.
I’ve never quite decided if I’d rather have method to my madness, or madness to my method.
The CIA agents who secretly bug our cars would like you to know that Spoon is in, Coldplay is out, and it’s never too early to find an All Holiday Music radio station.
Motivation to stay at the office working late is inversely proportional to the amount of Guiness that makes its way from the office mini-fridge into one’s mug.
I feel like I’ve been air-lifted into Budapest and commanded to erect a building with my bare hands.
Just when you think you must be crazy to be thinking the way you are, you find someone, maybe more than one person, who is thinking the exact same way.
High winds make me edgy, crabby, and mean.
My favourite number is 8 and there’s a sentence of mine lower down that has 8 comments and it looks so nice that I couldn’t help but comment on it - although commenting on it below would have made the number of comments 9, so, instead, here I am wasting valuable Scrine-bird space with this odd little comment-come-sentence.
it’s a good thing i bought my trip weeks ago or i would chicken out now, but here i am almost ready to drive down for Art Basel Miami this weekend, having promised myself that after New Orleans i would spend NOTHING when, calling just now to check my reservations, i find it will cost me an additional $24 a day merely to PAUSE the car.
right there outside the library window: but with which do you identify?
http://www.nelson.usf.edu/brodosi/hawk/Hawk.html (graphic animal content, viewer discretion advised, safe for work but maybe not for quite small children)
how long has that been there, have i been away for so long?and why does my stream keep rebuffering, i can’t hear but a few seconds at a time, this is probbaly just a figment of my imagination, isn’t it, never mind.
There’s something reassuring in seeing boot arrive around 6:30pm Pacific Standard Time and knowing that it is morning there, Australia has taken over and I can retire to my cups for the night knowing someone’s keeping a watchful eye on Keith’s watchful bird.
Sometimes it’s there, right in front of me, but by the time I realize what’s going on, it’s just too late.
Shhh…. can you hear it, rustling in the grass?
Looking at the word “orgasmn” he’d just typed, ‘mouse wondered, is it a strange plural for orgasm, or is it the special type of orgasm generated by oral sex?
Henry couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d said what was on his mind.
Next time you read a book and are moved strongly by a piece of writing, get out your pen (I said pen, not pencil) and write something on that page.
A person can judge their current economic standing simply by listening to their phone answering machine, then forming a simple ratio comparing the number of computer-simulated voice messages left to the number left by actual human beings, keeping in mind as they total the numbers that calls originating from collection agencies should be counted as computer-simulated, no matter how humanoid the voice on the message may sound.
It jangles, it tinkles, it shines, it glistens, it sparkles; it is music to my ears.
All the times you have stood in line are counted up and given back to you at the end of your life in the form of exotic drinks and delicious appetizers.
Not every holiday involves eating a turkey, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea.
Peter kept the bucket of frogs in the bedroom closet, just in case
I’m hoping that this time around the Hobbits don’t lose.
I wish the phone company had a service that would guarantee that you’d only be able to call someone else’s message machine, and that he or she would never pick up the phone and actually speak when you called.
She gritted her teeth and plunged her hand into the dark, oily and very cold bilge water, feeling around for the finger she had just dropped there.
It’s like I’m Captain Randell somehow, or maybe even Leon Mainguy, and every time the phone rings it’s another shot plunging into my side, because let’s face it, my creditors stopped dropping shots across my bow about three months ago and now the chase is on.
5. Any customer who suspects, questions, wonders about, or in any way investigates the existence of the Stranglehold Conspiracy will be automatically rescheduled or delayed service so as to allow overtime billing.
Laura experienced two types of insomnia: the eyes open at 3am, might as well read type that was almost a guilty indulgence, and last night’s kind which was grinding, anxiety-riddled funky awfulness where she couldn’t read, couldn’t sleep and simply had to wait forever for dawn when she’d get up, puke from the stress and try to make it through the day.
Gumption, infamy, alas, arise, smatterings, milieu, rambling, hark, buccaneer, widdershins; these words are amongst the detritus from the brain of a linguaphile, and they have found their home.
The guy who said he’d come over to fix the leak this morning is probably at that Handyman Fun Fair I suspect is held daily on the edge of town, where they all stand around watching a rodeo, drinking coffee from styrofoam cups, taking the ski lift together, giggling insanely while mocking their customers for their neediness, reveling in their stranglehold on our fair city.
Have you heard that Linus van Pelt’s first name was inspired by one of Charles Schultz’s childhood friends who was noted for his lying ways?
Peradvenure this word will actually catch on.
Many of the mistakes we parents make are rooted in the belief that our children will live some version of our own childhoods.
In one corner of the room the women could be seen, huddled together, quietly dissussing elasticity, while across the room, in the corner furthest from the window, the men had also gathered, albeit more loosely, to fold their arms across their chests and silently worry about rigidity.
“Mom, I plugged the iron in, and it’s hot now,” she yelled across the house.
All children shall come with adult-sized earplugs on long lanyards, built in.
Miss Jane wiped her hands down her skirt as she stepped away from the body, thinking to herself “Well, if you hadn’t got into the damn lift, chatting to your damn friend, holding open the doors and holding us all up, all the while carrying an infernal American-chain-we-don’t-have-spoons-or-cups takeaway paper recepticle of so-called-coffee, I wouldn’t have had to do that.”
It’s a good thing animals are so stupid, or they’d be doing things like inventing money, getting jobs, and showing up at church on Sunday.
She reached into her handbag to get her keys and, to her abject horror, found them covered with little pink squiggly things.
Bob smiled wanely at the baby in the woman’s lap on the other side of the waiting room and remembered when he used to play with little Bob, Jr.’s toes: This little Bob went to market, and this little Bob stayed home; this little Bob had roast beef, and this little Bob had none; this little Bob cried “wee-wee-wee” all the way home!
Bob wondered why his name was attached to a cute, short haircut for women when it would be more appropriate if it referred to a wispy, greying comb-over look for men.
A Scrine without a sentence is like __________ without ___________.
Now I’m wondering if each time I’ve thought I was happy, it was simply a chemical reaction and easily dismissed as illusion.
She looked down at her feet and wondered, “why so many?”
Bob couldn’t remember the last time he’d swallowed any idea hook, line, and sinker.
It’s true: if “intelligent design” is in fact fact, then I have no one to blame for the virus in my body except God herself.
Don’t turn the page, it’s so loud that it hurts (can’t you hear the scraping).
Babette employed a bevy of editors (and singlehandedly stimulated the economy of her small city) because of her fate: she was in love with passive verb tense, and couldn’t bear to see it changed.
I just discovered there is a little tiny label on my Internet connection which says: WARNING - Connecting to the ‘net may suck all interest in doing anything at all useful out of you; combining with coffee and a donut in the morning may increase this effect and make you useless all day.
i have have arriv, it is 40-odd degrees in New Oreleans (with WWOZ on the actual radio instead of streaming, albeit from Baton Rouge) the quarter is deserted, i need to go find food, i got wireless in the room for a mere $5 extra and i will go out and scuff around now after i drink this cuppa coffee.
He ran the free world
Republicans hated him
She was not that hot.
Oh, the tyranny of “early pickup days” from elementary school, how you torment us!
…in a world where irony and world-weary detachment are the norms, is there any room left for sincerity?
I’ve heard the old saying “The best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” has been officially updated to “The best way to a man’s heart is through fast food and triple bypass surgery.”
what would we all do if it weren’t for scrine?…
And while a pile of bones buried beneath two feet of earth is seldom thought of as being on the move, that is exactly what this particular pile of bones was doing, having made their arrangement with the hermit’s unsuspecting dog, who each morning dropped another one of them off at the hermit’s door, covered in fresh saliva.
Though I’ve called these people my dearest friends for six years, most of that time we’ve lived very far away from each other, and I am beginning to suspect that they are actually clones manufactured by a fast right wing conspiracy to make leftism look like it really is just an excuse for overeducated brats to feel superior; I swear, if I have to hear one more time about how stupid it is to buy a new car/ carry credit card debt/ shop at the mall/ subscribe to cable, I am going to fucking kill someone.
I’ve been accused of killing time, but I swear it was in self defense.
My daughter told me the reason you can’t hear cats’ flatulence is that they don’t have large primate asses like ours.
Why do blow flies sound so crunchy when they get eaten?
not one minute more, i’m going back to new orleans on saturday, flying in for two days only this time, found a package, cannot wait for St. Charles to open in a month i’ll drive back then, but for now i just cannot wait: this weekend I am going home!!
This weekend we debated whether the world is continually turning left (or is it right? if north is up, of course…) as it hurtles around the sun.
… a man who has lost his wife of forty years, a man whose love is so profound that many months after her passing he still keeps a place at the table for her ‘in case she drops by’ and who, when he speaks of her, doesn’t even notice the tears that stream down his face.
The study and plotting of crabbiness isn’t a science, but it should be.
A fortune teller once told me, “I see your life connected with computers,” which I have to admit, sounded an awful lot like everyone’s future.
Boot has gleefully pointed out that I have now appeared in the list of ten scriners, which is a little disturbing… and lead me to wondering *where is* Bunni - the person whose posting made me discover the scrine site in the first place - I wanted to cite the quote I’d received via messenger, before sharing it willy-nilly with others - come back bunni!
Why do we spend so much time teaching our kids about stranger danger when at the end of the day, statistics tell us that most victims of crime are victims not of some arbitrary stranger, but of someone they know…?
We had a belching contest and I WON!
It was a dark and stormy night,
Bob’s favorite part of the political process was that politicians always got old, died, and eventually forgotten.
“Hmmmm, smells like dead duck—and I mean that in the best possible way”
The addictive qualities of Scrine are fully described in the Wasted Time Guarantee® section of the club membership packet.
One morning he wasn’t there; the sweet old guy who made my morning coffee, brought me a rose from his garden, made me laugh, showed me photos from when he was young, and flirted lovingly with all the women.
‘mouse offered me a soapbox, and then y’all have been talking about generations and age and whatnot, and I want to join the conversation, but it turns out my thoughts only come in 900 word increments.
One night I just couldn’t take it any more, so I unhooked the chain and that old hound headed straight out into the woods to do the Lord’s work.
*click here for the reading and/or physically impaired version of the same sentence
She-ee-it.
How come I don’t hear about Wild East heroes?
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, under penalty of perjury?”
SWCSOFTRSFF:
She Who Corrupts the Souls of Others by Forcing Them to Read Snippets of Fan Fiction.
so yesterday I was down in the stacks, listening along to the audionovel, when I hear the denouement: the principal suspect had Creutzfeld-Jacob disease and she knows this because of the drug he was taking for it still resident in his defunct circulatory system, which drug is the selfsame one that I am prescribed to ward off the heebie-jeebies, and i wonder: ?
Make sure you were aware of exactly what was happening in highschool, at the time that it was happening.
when (exactly) did sex, drugs and rock’n’roll become ‘checks, prescriptions, and fixing the toilet bowl’?
One time I died and went to Heaven, my soul reborn as a perfectly round, beautiful piece of glass; unfortunately, a man who’d once ran with scissors as a kid found me, picked me up, and said, “So, you think you’re the right eye for the job?”
One little known fact from the world of veterinarian medicine is that Dr. Leo Campbell, D.V.M., the world’s leading authority in feline collagen lip enhancement, also operates a highly successful camel hump enlargement clinic just outside of Bakersfield, California.
The sentence remained expressionless, one stoic line amidst the curious gawkers, it’s meaning hidden from the world forever as the clock struck 6:10 a.m. and the warden gave the signal for the period to be placed.
What makes a great curry the night before, makes for interesting textured burps after eating the leftovers the day after.
If you finished everything today (and I mean everything) what would you do tomorrow?
Sometimes a scriner posts a sentence about, say, meeting someone they’ve been riding the bus with for lo these many years, and I get to noticing things in my life as a result, but then the days all pile on top of each other and it is much too long before I finally do finish blogging about it, by which time the scrine that stared it all is nowhere to be commented on.
Like anal retentive hope, Bob’s goals spring eternal in an impossible, but organized manner.
His legs transitioned to his ass in such a smooth way as to make one think of sculpture reflecting muscle rather than muscle itself.
was it something i said?
Now that I’ve convinced all my neighbors that voting is for sissies, my own vote is worth so much more!
I grinned and, in explanation, opened those horrifyingly grey doors.
…and he finally reappeared to finish his sentence!
Trying hard to satisfy the boy’s curiosity about dates and calendars and how it all works, and not actually knowing much about it myself, I was trying to explain that the calendar we currently used was something invented and based around Jesus, and that there were actually more then 2000 some odd years to existence, and basically lowering myself into an intellectual hole that I was digging and knew I wouldn’t be able to climb out of, when suddenly the boy said, “Was Jesus on the cover of the first calendar, because it sounds kind of important, so there must have been a good action pose on every page.”
I’m getting tired of living in my own head, so now I’m going to live in my armpits instead.
Gloria’s emotional baggage was already over-packed when she began the marriage journey, but when the inevitable train wreck ensued, she picked through the remains and wandered sadly away from the rubble, trailing issues she didn’t even realize were fluttering along behind her.
sometimes i have to be smacked upside the head with things in order to see them; i’m sorry that when i packed up some of my comments for a move, i took you (the vague obnoxious editorial You) and your comment count down with me.
”…and at some some point you will become consumed by this passion,” the professor told the class, “and then, and only then, will you understand why the words “writing” and “writhing” are spelled nearly identical.”
You’ve marked your calendar and you know that Friday’s The Big Day, so now you have to do your part.
What would happen if I suddenly developed piety and attended the evangelical church on the hill.
Remember when you were a kid and running meant really running, running mindlessly and without fear of falling and hurting yourself, running gracelessly, legs and arms flailing, getting sweaty and having your hair stick in your face, but then occasionally you did fall over and graze your knee and because it was so fun and there weren’t any grown-ups around to make crying worthwhile, continuing to run even as you crawled back up on to your feet, and you just kept on running until you fell down on the grass exhausted and laughing so hard that it hurt.
When did my little shelf of 30 books turn into the “room lined with bookshelves”?
It is the fate of the dead or missing to become what we make of here.
Babbette started writing plaintive poetry on the subject of death and aimed at consoling her neighbors using the materials in her front yard, though she was stumped when it came to the bright green garden hose.
is it a bad sign when i’m carrying a boot knife and loudly threatening my neighbors labrador with a messy death? i contend it’s not the estrogen, but the lack thereof that’s plaguing me.
Okay folks, listen up—if I’m going to stop being a ‘mouse and start being a ‘muse, y’all have to start listening to me—Keith, good job on “Bottle Cap, Going Down,” keep up the good work; Bakerina, throw on that apron and get to work—I wanna see apple pie and an eggy update by Monday; anyone else? Jo, you get Jen pregnant yet? What’s next? Step right up, I’m ready for ya! Come one, come all, the ‘muse is in the house.
Imagine you are three years old and you’ve never seen the ocean because you live in Ohio but you’ve been playing with kites and climbing trees all morning and you can still hear the voices of the other kids outside but they seem so far away unlike the ceiling fan and the sheer curtains dancing in the breeze which together are filling up your consciousness in a pleasant foggy sort of way so that her voice goes right into the deepest parts of your brain; for one midday hour you dream of shells that sing away the ache from when the nose fell off your favorite bear, and smooth round stones as small as a world and as large as how it feels when your words come out all jumbled and the grown ups don’t fix the problem, the important problem, but just stare at you like what you are saying is not part of any language they comprehend.
In the unnatural silence of the kid-free house, Babbette prepared for the pool boy’s arrival by fanning out the library books on the coffee table.
“What a waste!” thought Bob, as he contemplated all the years he’d spent not knowing how to fry chicken.
I’m not sure what causes me more trouble, the wind or the things content to be blown around by it.
Hiccups are funny until they start to hurt.
“Sorry about the blood on your jacket, but again, no, this hat is not for Melbourne Cup Day, it’s for keeping the burning sun off of my head.”