Son: "Uh, hey dad. I asked you to meet me and Irene up here.." Dad: "I can't believe you named your car, idiot." Son: "Irene isn't just a car. I put my pen*s inside her. Sexually." Dad: "WHAT!?!" Son: "I love my car. I'm IN LOVE with my car. What I'm saying is, my car and I engage in sexual congress." Dad: "Interesting...(strokes chin in thought) You still carry a loaded gun, or even any other primitive weaponry, in that glove compartment?"

I think it goes without saying that some people -- e.g. this car-f*cking sicko -- should stay in the closet and if there's EVER a need to exit it, don't bring a camera crew with you. Like why did the whole world need to know you gas-tank f*ck your car? Did you just want to ensure you'd never be employed again? What is the thought process there?

While we're on this subject, it also goes without saying that "My Strange Addiction" is essential programming for everyones' TV lineup. Really makes you appreciate the complete pile of shit you never became.