vespa, n'est-ce pas?
The other night my printer started screaming like a banshee, and by the time my mother awoke and stumbled over to the desk and unplugged it, the ink inside the cartridge had undergone a horrible electronic auto-da-fé, leaving nought but black dust. New cartridges are on back order, so I will have to go to Peyton's house, on the pretext of taking care of her cat, and print out my CD order forms there. The CD master and artwork and sundries should be going off to the Canadian manufacturing plant today, and unless I fucked up the Illustrator layout (always a possibility) they'll ship me back 1000 copies, and then I will use them to build a fort.
