Man-loving printers.

[whatho]

The printer hates me. When my father goes to use it, it behaves like a lamb (a mechanical lamb, the main function of which is to churn out documents). Whenever I try to print something, it gives me page after page of drivel and disgorges a great mound of black ink onto the printer tray.

Which is fine by me.

Quiet news day. Going to see Volver tomorrow. Hope I don't make an idiot of myself trying to pronounce it. Am craving yoghurt slightly but have no remedy to hand. Never mind. Soon I will go to bed. This excites me as much as ever. I had good dreams last night but I'm forgetting them slightly at present. Bed's a great place anyway. Pillows and that. Super.

Printers are vile. Remember this.