Coltrane blowing hot as Miles stands there and stands by. Is he smirking or grimacing? Don't upstage me Trane. Take the sax out your mouth. It's my turn to solo...

Me in my French shades with a Gauloises hanging from my lip as I use the google so I can create a faux cool neo-noir vibe for suburbanites who have puke bright green lawns. They've subscribed to The Times for decades and they are my most vital and most important demo.