Vito de Luca

remaining dj of the two-men team who formed the infamous dj band aeroplane. this guy is like the second coming of jesus, but if jesus were this awesome dude with nice gl-sses and very good taste in music. call it jesus 2.0 if you will.
in many m-n-scripts, it has been said that vito is capable of making your prostate jump up and down if you’re a man, and making you ovulate right away if you’re a woman.
the music from vito de luca is one of the few things that make the world better. it does not matter if you’re a deadbeat with a deadend job, it does not matter if your d-ck smell like sh-t and women puke when they try to give you abajowski, it does not matter if your parents tell you that you’ll amount to nothing and you’re the result of a few tequila slammers and an oversized prophylactic. it does not matter if the last time you inserted your ugly weiner in a coochie was that last awkward new year’s eve where you took advantage of your cousin’s mentally disabled friend at the mental inst-tute for blind catholic schoolgirls, dude, nothing will matter anymore.
just lie down, stare at your ceilling, put the earwax-covered earphone in, select one of the many fine mixes this semi-god has to offer and let yourself be filled with this shiny ball of warmth. it will make everything just right, and if the feeling fades away, bro, play another one.

to sum this f-ckin ud article up, vito de luca is da bomb.
carl : man, i just listened to the aeroplane chart mix of may 2010…
henry : so what ?
carl : i love you man.
henry : you queer.

joshua : man, you got canned from your job again ? what you did this time homes ?
claus : i got caught red-handed smoking pot and getting my d-ck sucked by the boss’ daughter in the supply room.
joshua : broooo, wrooong, in so many ways !
claus : f-ck it, play the aeroplane triple jjj mix, i need it right now.
joshua : you got it. vito de luca’s gonna take care of your sorry -ss.

mother : frank, come in here !
son : yes mom ?
mother : we gotta talk. your father and i are getting a divorce. this sorry excuse for a man is getting a s-x change operation, and i want to fulfill my dream of becoming the biggest c-cksucker in midget p-rn. plus you’re an unwanted child, and i tried to perform the abortion myself by sticking sharpened chinese chopsticks in my c-nt from month one to month seven.
son : man… i really oughtta check out the new aeroplane mix.