In our rush to embrace the essence of bling, we have grievously estranged reality.
Conjecture perhaps, but how else do you explain having club nights in town with names like Ghetto Heaven?
What an oxymoron.
Human error. Such convenience.
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On a completely unrelated note, I was severely compromised, just the other day.
I was the unwitting victim of the Jedi Mind Trick of the female species, my powers of reasoning reduced to a near-catatonic state:
"Do I look fat in this?"
"Er...Um...Well..."
"Do I?"
"It depends on the lighting, I guess..."
Stupid.
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