When a cat is dropped, it always lands on its feet; 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-a-ray, we could power the entire metropolitan area
I am Rebecca. I am seventeen. I play guitar, I do artistic shit and I make ridiculously good cups of tea. For more details see below.
CURIOUSER AND CURIOUSER
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