vá…ég skildi ekki einu sinni hvað þetta átti að vera<br><br>When a cat is dropped, it always lands on its feet, and when toast is dropped, it always lands with the buttered side facing down. I propose to strap buttered toast to the back of a cat; the two will hover, spinning inches above the ground. With a giant buttered cat array, a high-speed monorail could easily link New York with Chicago.
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To me, boxing is like a ballet, except there's no music, no choreography, and the dancers hit each other.