Then I'm all swooping my hips to and fro and fro and to and to and to and fro and fro in my desk chair and all of a sudden the phones are ringing and I'm shoving rainbow sherbet in my face like a fiend.

Whoever the Fuck Panic Is Perfect is, I want them to unvasectomy me, because this track is bound to get a muthafucker in a humpin' ass mood.

Poppy and catchy and bouncy and catchy and infectious and catchy, the only antidote to this song's fucking awesomeness is fucking sleep.

I JUST WANT TO RUN THROUGH THE HALLS OF MY HIGH SCHOOL AND SCREAM AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS "THIS IS HOW SEX MUST FEEEEEEL!".

Does that make me weird?

Tom says

Holy shit. Vampire lips biting my fingertips. I wasn't even half way through this track and I was riding my imaginary bull around my kitchen slapping its imaginary ass. Why does this song give me the urge to make obscene slapping gestures???

I just get the feeling this song is destined for greatness. Like in a few months it will be used on NFL pregame shows and as a soundtrack to college orgies and then you won't be able to escape it. Yes...it's that versatile and exciting.