Dunno where you live but apparently, in my neighbourhood, it is tradition to interfere with the exhaust of your motor vehicle, do something horrific to it with a welding torch and a lack of conscience.
Then you take a look at your dash, and find something lacking. That something turns out to be a GIANT SOUND SYSTEM THAT GOES BOOOOF BOOF BOOOOFFFFFF.
Then, because you are a well-rounded personality, and your abominable blue-collar job somehow gives you these hours to drive around, you choose to do do-nuts outside my house.
All I ask, is that after I’ve spent an hour crooning a Noddy book to my two-year-old, and chanting as though it’s a newly discovered spiritual discipline, ‘go to sleeeeep, now, go to sleeeeep’, you control your desire to leave tyre tread in my driveway.
And you can add to that the ungodly hour of four am.
BECAUSE IF YOU DON’T I’M GOING TO COMMIT CAR-O-CIDE.
Thanks for listening. I’m off to distribute some more baby-valium: that is, sing the Barney anthem, ‘I LOVE YOUUUU’ until my head explodes.