With my brainpower firing at--at most--a quarter percent, my eyes had seized upon the words "caress," "brazillian," and "pussycat dolls" and so the battle was lost before it had even begun. Clicked I did on the link and I was actually disappointed to see a Pussycat Doll blathering on about winning a trip to Aruba, or something. And then I was treated to a nice jazzy number--audio only, no visual stimulation--of the knockouts crooning in their oh-so inimitable "girl band" style. (True musical geniuses, these women are; let no one tell you that any hot group of girls, accompanied with studio-generated percussion and spacey effects, could sing the same way--they'd be yanking your chain.)
I guess I was expecting a razor and some shaving cream...and a nice geometrically-true landing strip.