JJ Rowland, can I touch you?
I found this site. It makes me happy. So happy.
The music that blares from the pimp rides makes no sense; it all sounds like a man with severe autism halfheartedly explaining human sexuality to a parrot, while in the background a dangerously unqualified Caribbean contractor rhythmically installs an automatic garage door opener. Bollocks.
Nothing, NOTHING can be added to that. Hurrah to you Mr. Rowland.

