Here's a scenario for you.
Imagine that you're in a diner and you order a sandwich. Halfway through it, you discover a nice little hair. You demand to see the chef to complain. You call the waitress over to explain whereupon she tells you that "only Joe handles the food and he ain't got no hair".
So you take a walk to the kitchen and sure enough, there is Joe.....bald as a babys ass. You are almost satisfied until you happen to see Joe reach down his pants and take a good long scratch.
Imagine the look that would be on your face.
The horrid, aghast, heart sinking despair one would feel in such a scenario did not even come close to the sickly, disgusting, gut wrenching agony I felt when I opened this thread.
As a result of giving me "bad burrito" heartburn as only a stinking, rotten, shameless, repulsive self gloss as this would do, I hereby award Suckapore Air