[Warning: Some salty language in the soundtrack]

I guess this is what happens when playing in traffic gets dull, or you get old enough to shave. You find yourself dangling off a rusted tower somewhere outside Chechnya hoping a parachute won’t be needed. Not that you have a parachute in the first place. Even if you’re in the military, when you open up your pack there’s only a coupon for a parachute. You make do over there. As long as you don’t let go there really shouldn’t be a problem. And even big problems in Russia don’t last for very long. They’re generally over at terminal velocity.

I’ve come to accept that no matter what any video on YouTube is about, the music will be god-awful. It’s like zoning laws for the Intertunnel. The music’s terrible, it’s true, but it serves the important purpose of drowning out the sound of their brass testicles clinking together, and the clatter of their tiny little brains rolling around in their heads like a pinballs.

[Many many thanks to our pal Jonathan Frost-Johnson and the esteemed Gerard at American Digest for dropping this video on us]