"Excuse me your honor, I'm unable to address parliament this afternoon, I have a desperate need to launch an iceturd upon the high seas." (taken from British prime minister Tony Blair's private diaries)
What becomes a big nasty blackish hunk of frozen street slush, and will attach to the back of a wheel well, only to drop in inopportune places, and look all nasty-assty.
Lackey; Damn man, them rustlucks is froz down like Santa's balls.
Boss; Well I nearly broke my toe on one just now, and if you don't get them gone right now you will be thawing Santa's balls in your next line of work!