Truck Nutz - "The Ultimate Truck Accessory"™
Eloquence fails me on this one - Truck Nutz?! What does one say about Truck Nutz?
I have been driving for, let's just say, 'quite awhile' and yet, somehow I completely missed the fact that pick-up-truck drivers and motorcyclists have been attaching plastic models of male ball sacks to the undercarriage of their bumpers.
To be sure, I am rendered quite speechless by this new low (or high) in white trash culture, but I must say something about it on behalf of decent citizens everywhere.
The obvious conclusion to draw from Truck Nutz is -
1. If the man who needs to drive around a large metal phallus in the form of a car or motorbike has a small penis; then ...
2. The man who needs to drive around a large metal phallus in the form of a car or a motorbike with a large set of plastic balls attached to it has no penis at all.
But I find this line of argumentation a bit weak. When my attention was first drawn to this disgusting ornament , I was so deeply offended that I cannot now attribute it to a mere display of masculine failure.
Truck Nutz reminds me of a story a friend of mine once told me from her trip to the Italian coast. Bear in mind that she is a very sweet girl and somewhat naive. Let's call her "Bella".
Having spent a pleasant day tanning on the seaside and walking along the beach, Bella found herself a bit lost and decided to go to a nearby train station in order to ask for directions. However, as it was a weekend, there were no train attendants working and the platform was empty except for one man sitting alone on an old wooden bench. Without any other options, Bella decided to approach him and asked if he knew the way back to her neighborhood. After hearing Bella's request, he pulled one knee up next to his chest, wrapped his arms around it and began to give her the most highly detailed directions she had ever heard in her life, complete with excerpts of the town history.
While this might sound like a very friendly, good-natured thing for a total stranger to do for young Bella - here was the problem - when the man bent his leg up, his balls came tumbling out of his too short shorts (he was not wearing underwear) and they were laying flat on the bare wood of the bench for the entirety of his monologue.
Bella was completely dumbfounded. She stood there, grounded to the spot, politely nodding and maintaining intense eye contact so as not to accidentally look down at this man's balls - despite much gesticulating on his part. After Bella extricated herself from this awkward encounter, she rehearsed the exchange in her mind and became convinced that the man knew exactly what he had been doing all along.
This man is the same man who buys Truck Nutz.
Eloquence fails me on this one - Truck Nutz?! What does one say about Truck Nutz?
I have been driving for, let's just say, 'quite awhile' and yet, somehow I completely missed the fact that pick-up-truck drivers and motorcyclists have been attaching plastic models of male ball sacks to the undercarriage of their bumpers.
To be sure, I am rendered quite speechless by this new low (or high) in white trash culture, but I must say something about it on behalf of decent citizens everywhere.
The obvious conclusion to draw from Truck Nutz is -
1. If the man who needs to drive around a large metal phallus in the form of a car or motorbike has a small penis; then ...
2. The man who needs to drive around a large metal phallus in the form of a car or a motorbike with a large set of plastic balls attached to it has no penis at all.
But I find this line of argumentation a bit weak. When my attention was first drawn to this disgusting ornament , I was so deeply offended that I cannot now attribute it to a mere display of masculine failure.
Truck Nutz reminds me of a story a friend of mine once told me from her trip to the Italian coast. Bear in mind that she is a very sweet girl and somewhat naive. Let's call her "Bella".
Having spent a pleasant day tanning on the seaside and walking along the beach, Bella found herself a bit lost and decided to go to a nearby train station in order to ask for directions. However, as it was a weekend, there were no train attendants working and the platform was empty except for one man sitting alone on an old wooden bench. Without any other options, Bella decided to approach him and asked if he knew the way back to her neighborhood. After hearing Bella's request, he pulled one knee up next to his chest, wrapped his arms around it and began to give her the most highly detailed directions she had ever heard in her life, complete with excerpts of the town history.
While this might sound like a very friendly, good-natured thing for a total stranger to do for young Bella - here was the problem - when the man bent his leg up, his balls came tumbling out of his too short shorts (he was not wearing underwear) and they were laying flat on the bare wood of the bench for the entirety of his monologue.
Bella was completely dumbfounded. She stood there, grounded to the spot, politely nodding and maintaining intense eye contact so as not to accidentally look down at this man's balls - despite much gesticulating on his part. After Bella extricated herself from this awkward encounter, she rehearsed the exchange in her mind and became convinced that the man knew exactly what he had been doing all along.
This man is the same man who buys Truck Nutz.
