Just a few days before driving on country roads I came across a stop sign hidden behind a bush and for life's sake I couldn't understand why this garbage truck was driving right in front of me. That's when I realized that without foreplay and lubrication, I was going to face car fornication. My anus gnawed a hole in the seat trying to stay still, Big John just slowed down and not at the speed I was comfortable with. My 6 year old inner self shits and screams. I replaced the front pads with these DIME STOPS. I disassembled them according to the instructions. At first I felt like I did it wrong because I couldn't smell the burning brakes, so I did it again, this time in an alley with no traffic, and I smelled it. I knew that either my next test would make me a believer or a believer. I took Big John to 70 with Fred Flinston on the brake pedal with both feet. The front end dived deeper than ever and stopped faster than ever (like in feet).