David Hasselhoff

I have to say this is an excellent cd. I also have his knight rocker and another one. But I have to say that my all time favorite song on looking for the best of David Hasselhoff is Save the World.
I have to say this about David, I have been a fan since Knight rider and don't people realize that he is a person. People make mistakes and I totally think it is unfair to judge him.
Regular people get drunk and disorderly, the only thing that makes him different is he is an actor and musician. So what? He is human and no human is ever perfect. I will always love David Hasselhoff and I wish I could meet him in person.

What is this disintegrating edifice we call life?

Where will that bewildering highway of creation lead?

When will those shackles of existence be lifted, and our weary souls transcend to some higher plain?

Rarely do 80's homo-erotic, perma-tanned, medallion-donning, leather-clad, mullet-sporting, cheese-mongering Miami-Vice rejects produce music so expansive, so stirring and so intellectually acute that it urges one to muse on their own fragile mortality, their own existential disillusion. Yet here, oh wondrous demi-god of Saturday afternoon tee-vee, you have created an adonis of poise and sound.

Probing behind the murky facade of the flashy materialism and souless decadence of his era, and with a wisdom and humanity far beyond his 79 years is, of course, the wonderful Doctor Menglerhoff. His greatest hits package [IMPORT] is a unique and sublime masterwork - the product of a fascinatingly fertile synth-skull.

I could wax lyrical for screeds in a vain attempt to fully convey my affection for these eighteen tracks of caustic wit, daring invention and aching beauty, but my time here is limited. I hear the call of 'Looking for Beauty' - I must retreat from my screen and submerge myself once more into Hepatitisprof's sea of wonder.

[Sleeve notes for this CD are supplied by Devindra's friend, 'Hollywood' Hulk Hogan, a particulary good friend...]

Good day to you all. I am KITT, David Van Tossenoff's talking car.
For the love of God, will everyone please be so kind as to actually engage their brains before writing a view of this album.
Really, people, it's utter rubbish and you all know it*.
I make this plea in the vain hope that if people get to know how bad it really is, others will stop buying it and Herr Honkenstiffy will not be quite so proud of himself.
That way, hopefully, he will stop playing it from end to end, at full volume, as he drives around in me, windows open, shirt open, fly open (don't ask), waving at girls with one hand and, with the other, pointing at his smarmy mug in a 'hey birds, that's me singing, ain't I great' sort of a way, as I do all the actual driving - as usual. It was ALWAYS me driving in the series, incidentally.
It's bad enough having his sweaty, leather-bound ass sitting on me all day, but being force fed that damn CD every day and having to play and listen to it over and over makes me wish I could reach inside my glovebox and hit the self-destruct button.
And it's not even like I can just merge into the background, what with that unmistakable paunchy, bouffanted ponce hanging out the window and my trademark red eye sweeping back and forth in my grill (yeah, back and forth, just like how mad people rock themselves).
Oh, no, I stand out like a sore thumb that's playing crap music and is apparently being driven by a candyfloss wrapped in a rug.
I tell you, see if other cars could speak, they wouldn't. Not to me anyway. They might have a good laugh, though.
Hang on. Come to think of it, maybe that's why I'm always being run off the road, blown up and having missiles fired me!
Honkenfurter, you've got a lot to answer for. And so too do all you sadistic reviewers.
So, have a heart, tell the truth.

* This statement does in no way include or refer to the track Hot Shot City, which is particularly good.