The last safe refuge of the talking dog






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.



's notes



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."



Please Choose







Enjoy the Benefits!

  • Words, glorious words.

  • Many fine examples of semicolon abuse.

  • Free pancakes at participating restaurants.

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Scrine Restoration

Sentences: 100% (18888)
Comments: 11%


Confessional: 100%
Scrineblog: 18.4%

boot blog: 100%
'mouse blog: 0%

Logged In

2015 Supporters

grudknows

2014 Supporters

boot, 'mouse, grudknows


Sentence Count

2015 ~ 169
2014 ~ 138
2013 ~ 256
2012 ~ 433
2011 ~ 940
2010 ~ 1786
2009 ~ 2631
2008 ~ 3808
2007 ~ 4502
2006 ~ 3037
2005 ~ 1188

 
February 28, 2009
Everything nowhere :: darksteve :: 0
If he was warm I could cool him If he was cold I could hold him But he is old and I cannot help himIf I was down he could feel me If I was sad he would heal me But he is tired and cannot help meMy last gift was his last breath No more to fight his time for rest I age, he sleeps, I grieve For he is gone and I cannot leave

“Possibly it’s been two or three years since my last confession,” added Joe, forgetting he was not Catholic and that he was speaking to a tzaddiq.


It was one of those days where Bronwyn wanted to punch the entire internet in the cock.
February 27, 2009
Every Morning :: Br. Ezra :: 0
Henry could feel his standards dropping as he morosely sipped his coffee and stared at the mess on his desk.
On Paying My March Rent :: Br. Ezra :: 0
Where did all the money go?
A New Forest :: Jo :: 0

She sat and sat, and grew roots which gave forth new shoots in the spring, until she was surrounded by replicas of herself all sitting at computers and staring mesmerized.


Proxy Guy Slogans :: Keith :: 0
“You haven’t been seduced until it’s by Proxy!”
Timmy knew instinctively that he would make a better God than God himself because he never forgot to feed his tortoise; he also knew that one day he’d grow hair in his armpits, which was something he attributed more to faith, rather than instinct.
Now, I’m no teacher but :: darksteve :: 0
Once upon a time, if you had used the phrase “thrumming of rain on a tin roof” in a class full of young ‘uns you might have been asked “what does thrumming mean?” but today it seems more likely the response would be “WTF is rain?”.
inside this head :: boot :: 0
Trains of thought are currently experience service difficulties and interruptions.
I accidentally gave myself high blood pressure today by watching fifteen seconds of The View.
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