I am humming along in my car, slightly annoyed at having spent too much time at the hardware store, when an Enormous truck cuts me off. Not a normal sized truck, a Ford Gigantor or Ram Behemoth. Not only does he barely miss my bumper in his need to race out front, he has the gall to swing a pair of balls in my face.

Balls.

In my face.

“Eeewwwww,” I involuntarily squealed.

There is a reason they don’t use men’s bits to sell things. They aren’t…pretty. They can’t be dolled up in any way. Testicles just aren’t that attractive. Anything that resembles two angry, skinny octopi fighting… I’m sorry. I am getting too personal here. It’s because I’ve seen them on a truck, and they were extremely realistic. We’re talking VEINS here.

I know, I thought these things only happened in Texas too, but no. North Van, #2 Road. Testes, swinging off the back of a boat hitch.

My first thought was, WHY? Why are you making me look at this?

My second thought was, I need to know why you are making me look at this.

Off to the internet I go, eating the dust of Mr. Balls, who is late for a…rodeo or something.

(ONE HOUR LATER)

I still don’t really know why. But there is a place one can go to order said nuts.

www.bullsballs.com

I can hear you laughing. But no, they promise to be

The Foremost Truck Balls Company in the World!

And something about “from the git go,” which I think means they were the first.

Here is an example. If you are squeamish, avert your eyes now.

I made the picture small, in case you were having a snack.

On the website, there are several testimonials as to how glorious the nuts look on the truck/Camero/piano. Yeah, one guy hung them from his grand piano.

Now I am really confused.

One customer was forced to take his off, at the insistence of his (reasonable) girlfriend.

“My ride has been neutered,” he says, deflated.

I’m assuming he can’t return them, so what is he going to do with the pair now? Door knocker? Paper weight? Or maybe the girlfriend has them, and uses them like nunchucks.

For some reason I never thought of my ride as really having a sex, apart from my VW Jetta, appropriately named “Joan Jetta.” Joan was definitely a girl. But did I order her a vagina for the hitch? No. I did not.

Actually, this could be a real business opportunity for me. I could name it… “The Beav.” The Beav could come in chrome, brillo, or artificial turf.  But it would need to DO SOME THING, as women tend to multi-task. It could have an eject button, so anyone who was too close to your bumper would suddenly have a flying Beav on the windshield, like the aliens in Alien.

At least it wouldn’t just hang there.

I’d do more research but honestly, I don’t want to go there. I have no idea what Pandora ’s Box might open, let alone the spam that would haunt my inbox. For now, I am assuming truck balls mean that you are manly, that you have quite a pair, that you are one powerful bull, ooh baby. It might also mean you are compensating in some way…

Just leave the piano out of it.