The best way I can describe it is like trying to jam a schizophrenic mountain goat into a paper mache shopping trolley without breaking it (the trolley, not the goat) with a live armadillo shoved down your pants, and an irate honey badger kicking at your guts.
Whilst you're on fire.
With a case of hemorrhoids.
(Actually a lot more fun than it sounds, but then, I'm a masochist)
