I  heard Willie Revillame on TV while I was commuting. His raspy, barely contained vocals need Autotune.
More to the point, I’d pay good money for a mobile Autotune. I no longer wear earphones or use an mp3 player for fear it will drown out critical ambient noise, like the horn of an incoming bus or screams of falling construction equipment falling down on me. But I’m willing to autotune in babies’s cries, Love Radio chatter and inane conversation, turning them into pleasant lyrics I really don’t pay attention to (much like My Humps).