Seriously...I don't care HOW good cyber sex with Sandra Bullock is, any future that involves me cleaning my ass with three seashells is a future too bleak for me to handle. Thank goodness John Spartan was man enough to handle it.
Jesus christ man, you read my goddamn mind, assuming I came up with it first, which i did not. Those seashells fucking puzzled the hell out of me until this very day. I will accept your explanation, wholeheartedly.