:dubious: This comes from a creature which every 28 days, for the most of it’s existence, it proceeds to leak blood (something which boys try to avoid, since losing blood is a bad thing), that insists on collecting thousands of pairs of foot coverings, even though it only has two feet, and in general refuses to wear 99% of them more than once (and that usually in the store when they’re trying them on), spends the GDP of several small nations on “paint,” which, instead of finding a durable brand that only needs to be reapplied only once every dozen years or so, picks one that can be easily rubbed off at the end of the day and blames all their problems on some combination of men and “hormones.” 
Bizarre xenocultural phenomena always pique my interest, Number One. 
I’ve castrated many a bull in my day, and I’m thinkin’ you ain’t missed much. On the other hand I’m a straight guy, so maybe you should try just one little fondle. It might be what you’ve been missing all these years.
I’m tempted to carry around a plastic vagina, so that the next time I see a truck with balls I can surreptitiously replace them.
I’m thinking rat trap.
You want to have sex with a giant scissor?
How strange :eek:
Gawd, that’d be funny!
I think they are hysterically funny. I am tempted to yell out the same thing I do when I see a really old guy in a hot sports car, “Sorry about your dick!”
Cuz, yanno, it’s an obvious plea for sympathy.
I believe I would disown a friend if they did this to their vehicle.
Red ones? Clearly, it means ‘My car has a social disease.’
Moo.
I’m just sayin’.
I saw a pickup truck leaving HomeDepot a few weeks ago with a full load in the bed and these truck balls were bouncing off the ground as he drove.
For some reason I drove home with my legs crossed.
I’m in North Carolina and I have never, ever, seen these before. It’s kind of funny, but no truck drivin’ son-of-a-gun that I know would be caught dead with these on his truck.
They hang low, they wobble to and fro, you can tie 'em in a knot, you can tie 'em in a bow, you can swing 'em over your shoulder like a continental soldier.
So that’d be a yes.
Now that would be impressive, a set of BullBalls that came up and over the tailgate to rest in the bed of the pick-up.
I was riding back from a gig one Sunday a few months back, hung over and sleep-deprived, and we were behind a truck with these things, um, mounted on the back…I laughed hysterically because I-95 between Richmond and DC is boring and the lay of the road made the nuts…undulate…just…so…I still crack up at it. But yeah, they’re really stupid and you have to wonder what’s going on with the driver who feels the need to sport those things.
Most vehicles are referred to in the feminine vernacular, this is an attempt by some to correct the misconception that they would drive anything but a masculine car.
It.Fails.Miserably.
If they’re going to do something that stupid, why not put a little scrunchie around the exhaust too?
My, what a coincidence! The house across the street is for sale and today a gigantic PET* drove up and two teeny, tiny little men hopped out to go look at the house–this caused me to burst into extemporaneous song (and I swear on all I hold dear that I did indeed make this up on the spot) to the tune of “Yankee Doodle Dandy:”
Don’t you wish you had a penis?
Don’t you wish you had some balls?
But instead you bought that giant truck
to stop you from playing with dolls!
The SO cracked up…
*Penis Envy Truck
Man, you are a SmartAleq! 