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Thank.... Fucking... God. No longer will I be a slave to the acoustic limitations of the fat content of my thighs, nor be forced to abuse my steering wheel with such ferocity as to be likened to a masturbating chipmunk on crank. Although, now I'm going to have to start a pool for when we will see the first douchebag walking down the street whilst desperately attempting to be Neil Peart. Which will appear, outwardly, to any passerby as an extreme, ongoing fit of epilepsy.
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