Today I am thinking about the Queen of Iceberg Island.
You know, the island that just broke off Greenland, which is 4 times as big as Manhattan.
I think it would be a difficult job, as iceberg's don't listen nor do they take advice.
I suggested to Björk that she should be Queen, though haven't heard back.
Those darn icebergs, they're worse than teenagers when it comes to listening! Oh well, what can ya do?! I'm thinking the Queen will need a pair of thermal pasties to wear under her dress in order to protect herself from a tragic case of frostbite.
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So true. And yes, icebergs always get their own way.
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