I can think of few more pleasurable situations than riding shotgun in your own car on a rainy DC night as your designated driver high-tails it home through the city after a delightful evening of plastic-cupped martinis and early-'90ssitcomthemesongsingalongs, while this plays over the shitty soundsystem, and the rain pours through the cracked window to splatter the right side of your wasted body while you suck and puff, and the sound of the wetness under the tires whooshes, and the road glistens.
I farking love the Unicorns, always will.
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