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I'm a rational man. I don't blame God for the credit crisis. So why do I believe that someone called Sod controls books and buttered toast?

By Sam Leith   March 2009

The other morning, it happened again. It hit my knee square-on, flipped, caught the top of my right Dr Martens with its leading edge and slid foursquare to the floor. Marmitey knife in one hand, I bent down to pick it up. There was a greasy mark on the toe of my boot. There was a greasy mark on the floor. It looked as if the kitchen tiles were perspiring. An inspection confirmed it. Butter side down. The laws of exchange had dictated that exactly what the toast lost to the floor in melted Anchor, it gained in cat hair.…

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