Thursday, February 23, 2006
Things that make you go...hmmmmmm
Pick-up truck testicles.
I mean, that phrase alone could speak for itself, but it is not in my nature to let any phenomena (commonly occurring or not) go without at least my two-cent analysis. So...pick-up truck testicles.
My ex-boyfriend doesn't believe they exist, but I've seen them. Most commonly, I encounter them as I slow down behind a truck at a red light. The first time I ever encountered them I remember snickering to myself "hey, that guys got something hanging out the bottom of his truck but (hee-hee), it looks like balls." Then I stopped. And I looked. And I squinted. And I leaned forward. And the truck started to drive away. And the car behind me honked. And I sat there with the image forever burned into my mind. Hanging just below the rear fender, off of a hook no less, were two perfectly-formed, "fleshy" pink colored testicles. And not only were they perfectly formed testicles, they were large perfectly formed testicles. Now, having held the belief all my life that the measure of most men's manhood rested in their, well, manhood, I was suprised and intrigued by my discovery.
Interestingly enough, discovering pick-up truck testicles is kind of the same as learning to drive. Before you know how to drive you never notice the stop signs or the "no U-turn" signs and so you're oblivious to it all. But once you learn to drive, you realize the damn things are everywhere. Such is the case with the testicles. I've found they are particularly prevalent along Ritchie Highway (which, to non-Baltimoreans means nothing so let me interpret: a long stretch of strip malls and gas stations that leads into a really nice, cushy suburb).
Now, having made this discovery I felt it was my pleasure, nay, my obligation to share this information with someone. I had to spread the good news. So I tell Anthony (ex-boyfriend/"babyfawva") and guess what? He doesn't believe me. So we're in the car (mine because he doesn't have one) and I'm searching frantically, furiously for testicles dangling off the backs of vehicles. But alas, we were in the wrong section of town. We were in Pigtown, the now predominantly black section of Southwest Baltimore that could be characterized as, among other things, "the hood." Now whereas in the county, having large, fake plastic testicles dangling off the back of your vehicle is considered funny or perhaps even a touch macho, in the hood...it's gay, straight up. So my effort to prove this phenomena failed.
Ever see that cartoon where the guy discovers a frog who sings show tunes but everytime he goes to show anyone the frog just sits there, ribbiting? That's how I felt. Everytime I was alone in the car, here come the testicles. I discovered they don't just come in fleshy pink, no, they come in hot pink, electric blue, red (if you're feeling racy), and black (although not such an effective color because the darkness hides the contrast and therefore leads the viewer of said testicles to think that they did not see what they did, in fact, see).
It is now my mission to get a picture of pick-up truck testicles. I don't know how many people read or have read this blog, but if you are reading this and you have a camera phone and have the priviledge of riding shotgun and have a camera phone AND you have absolutely nothing better to do, I implore you to please e-mail me a picture of a pick-up truck testicle, preferably one close-up to prove that it is, in fact, a testicle and one from further away to prove that it does, in fact, dangle from a pick-up truck. To the person who can do this, I will be indebted to you eternally.
I mean, that phrase alone could speak for itself, but it is not in my nature to let any phenomena (commonly occurring or not) go without at least my two-cent analysis. So...pick-up truck testicles.
My ex-boyfriend doesn't believe they exist, but I've seen them. Most commonly, I encounter them as I slow down behind a truck at a red light. The first time I ever encountered them I remember snickering to myself "hey, that guys got something hanging out the bottom of his truck but (hee-hee), it looks like balls." Then I stopped. And I looked. And I squinted. And I leaned forward. And the truck started to drive away. And the car behind me honked. And I sat there with the image forever burned into my mind. Hanging just below the rear fender, off of a hook no less, were two perfectly-formed, "fleshy" pink colored testicles. And not only were they perfectly formed testicles, they were large perfectly formed testicles. Now, having held the belief all my life that the measure of most men's manhood rested in their, well, manhood, I was suprised and intrigued by my discovery.
Interestingly enough, discovering pick-up truck testicles is kind of the same as learning to drive. Before you know how to drive you never notice the stop signs or the "no U-turn" signs and so you're oblivious to it all. But once you learn to drive, you realize the damn things are everywhere. Such is the case with the testicles. I've found they are particularly prevalent along Ritchie Highway (which, to non-Baltimoreans means nothing so let me interpret: a long stretch of strip malls and gas stations that leads into a really nice, cushy suburb).
Now, having made this discovery I felt it was my pleasure, nay, my obligation to share this information with someone. I had to spread the good news. So I tell Anthony (ex-boyfriend/"babyfawva") and guess what? He doesn't believe me. So we're in the car (mine because he doesn't have one) and I'm searching frantically, furiously for testicles dangling off the backs of vehicles. But alas, we were in the wrong section of town. We were in Pigtown, the now predominantly black section of Southwest Baltimore that could be characterized as, among other things, "the hood." Now whereas in the county, having large, fake plastic testicles dangling off the back of your vehicle is considered funny or perhaps even a touch macho, in the hood...it's gay, straight up. So my effort to prove this phenomena failed.
Ever see that cartoon where the guy discovers a frog who sings show tunes but everytime he goes to show anyone the frog just sits there, ribbiting? That's how I felt. Everytime I was alone in the car, here come the testicles. I discovered they don't just come in fleshy pink, no, they come in hot pink, electric blue, red (if you're feeling racy), and black (although not such an effective color because the darkness hides the contrast and therefore leads the viewer of said testicles to think that they did not see what they did, in fact, see).
It is now my mission to get a picture of pick-up truck testicles. I don't know how many people read or have read this blog, but if you are reading this and you have a camera phone and have the priviledge of riding shotgun and have a camera phone AND you have absolutely nothing better to do, I implore you to please e-mail me a picture of a pick-up truck testicle, preferably one close-up to prove that it is, in fact, a testicle and one from further away to prove that it does, in fact, dangle from a pick-up truck. To the person who can do this, I will be indebted to you eternally.
# posted by Bariatric Foodie @ 7:02 AM 
