I am now the proud owner of 10 printed copies of "Cumulonumbus" and nine printed copies of "Fantasie on There is a Balm in Gilead." (No, do not ask me why I have fewer copies of one than the other.) Apparently, if I had read the contract I signed more carefully, I probably would have expected to receive this. If your last name is Prins and you play handbells, I will send you over a copy of each in the next few days.
i sincerely do not know what you are doing here. are you lost? were you
looking for your delicate calico cat, and did you follow her up two flights of stairs
to this room? she is not here. she was here, yes. we gave her a warm bowl of milk, we talked with her about campaign finance reform for a time, and then she bid us good day. i believe she was
going to the post office two blocks down, but i don't quite recall.
for surely you did
not find your way from prinsiana, the least traveled site on
the internet. if you did, though, perhaps you are looking for humor. perhaps you are looking for profundity. perhaps you are looking for answers.
i'm sorry, but you shall go naught-for-three.
