Every month, it's the same old routine. I write a column, the magazine hits the streets and 24 hours later, like clockwork, the Team Last Call office is flooded with fan mail. To the point where I have to be like, "Mom, stop it."
But in all seriousness, I don't like to brag, but I've been known to receive as many as one letter a day. I've got to hand it to them, my readers are an enthusiastic bunch, and I'd like to personally thank all 10 of them.
Each letter I receive is unique, if not illegible. Sometimes I'll get one from, say, a concerned republican offering helpful tips pertaining to my bodily orifices and the various objects I might want to consider shoving into them. Other readers send letters offering constructive criticism along the lines of, "What's wrong with you?" and, "I guess they'll give a column to anyone these days." To the point where I have to be like, "Mom, seriously."
Others write to me with questions about life and love in general, such as:
"What do you think about life and love in general?"
"Who do you think was the world's first fat person?"
"Do you think Fox News really just makes up facts, or simply gets them all wrong?"
"If Rush Limbaugh was the last surviving human male on planet Earth, would he still die a virgin?"
To which I respond: You've never actually read my columns, have you?
But by far the most popular question my readers ask – as you've probably already guessed – is, "When are you finally going to write a column about TruckNutz?"
Which is really coincidental, because I was about to do that right nowNutz.
TruckNutz, also known as Bumper Balls, are disturbingly lifelike pairs of fake testicles designed to dangle from the back of a truck, most often between a "Bush/Cheney '04" sticker and a decal of Calvin peeing on something.
These Nutz serve an important function, which is to let other drivers on the road know that the owner of this truck is the kind of man who would actually spend $40 on a pair of fake balls. And also, presumably, to communicate that he is tough and shouldn't be messed with, and the reason he shouldn't be messed with is because his truck has fake testicles.
"Look out, other drivers!" the TruckNutz say. "Nuts in your face!"
TruckNutz are available in plastic and chrome, and come with varying amounts of wrinkles and veins. They measure up to six inches in length and are available in a full spectrum of colors, the most ironic of which is blue. Some of them light up in tandem with the truck's brake lights for maximum testicle visibility.
If this is the first time you've heard about TruckNutz, consider yourself lucky. Studies show that even just reading about them kills brain cells, which explains that little hissing sound you're hearing right now. Prolonged exposure to TruckNutz has been proven to cause permanent damage to such important lobes as the frontal, the temporal, the hernial and the not-listening-to-Nickelbackal.
I've been doing some thinking about why TruckNutz are popular. There's the obvious theory that TruckNutz owners are compensating for certain unmentionable shortcomings, by which I mean their tiny winkies. But these people are already driving large trucks. How much more compensation do they need? Apparently, two balls more.
But there's got to be something more to the story, some little X factor that separates a man who rolls his eyes at TruckNutz from a man who gently scoops them up and whispers, "You complete me."
One entry on Wikipedia identifies this factor as "machismo," which is Italian for "back hair." Another entry, which I created myself, classifies it as acute idiocy. Whatever the factor is, it's apparently spreading, particularly in the South, for reasons that are too obvious to makes jokes about.
Not surprisingly, TruckNutz are receiving a good amount of backlash from a certain demographic of Americans, comprised primarily of people who don't enjoy having someone else's balls in their face. The outcry of these non-consenting ball-lookers has prompted Florida officials to pass a law fining any driver up to $60 for exhibiting his Nutz. In Virginia, a law is pending that would result in a $250 fine per Nutz.
As one might expect, the TruckNutz backlash is now experiencing a backlash of its own. Upset Nutz owners across the country are ferociously defending their right to dangle their Nutz wherever and whenever they want, like Bill Clinton. It's a matter of free speech, they say. In America, everyone has a right to express his beliefs and opinions. For some people, that means starting a prayer group in school or staging a peace protest. For others, it means hanging a fake pair of balls from their bumpers.
The last thing I want to do is judge. If some dude wants to invest his money in rubber testicles, as opposed to, say, ending world hunger or reversing global warming or sending supplies to our troops, that's his personal, private business.
I think the crux of the issue here is that, ultimately, TruckNutz are just in really, really bad taste. But unfortunately, there is no law against bad taste, or Howie Mandel would be locked away in Sing Sing on 126 counts of douchery. What we're left with, I'm afraid, is a world in which Nutz must not only be tolerated, but embraced. The sooner we can reconcile ourselves to this fact, the sooner we can shift our focus back to the issues that really matter. Like Miley Cyrus.
Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some mail to open.
Mom!
But in all seriousness, I don't like to brag, but I've been known to receive as many as one letter a day. I've got to hand it to them, my readers are an enthusiastic bunch, and I'd like to personally thank all 10 of them.
Each letter I receive is unique, if not illegible. Sometimes I'll get one from, say, a concerned republican offering helpful tips pertaining to my bodily orifices and the various objects I might want to consider shoving into them. Other readers send letters offering constructive criticism along the lines of, "What's wrong with you?" and, "I guess they'll give a column to anyone these days." To the point where I have to be like, "Mom, seriously."
Others write to me with questions about life and love in general, such as:
"What do you think about life and love in general?"
"Who do you think was the world's first fat person?"
"Do you think Fox News really just makes up facts, or simply gets them all wrong?"
"If Rush Limbaugh was the last surviving human male on planet Earth, would he still die a virgin?"
To which I respond: You've never actually read my columns, have you?
But by far the most popular question my readers ask – as you've probably already guessed – is, "When are you finally going to write a column about TruckNutz?"
Which is really coincidental, because I was about to do that right nowNutz.
TruckNutz, also known as Bumper Balls, are disturbingly lifelike pairs of fake testicles designed to dangle from the back of a truck, most often between a "Bush/Cheney '04" sticker and a decal of Calvin peeing on something.
These Nutz serve an important function, which is to let other drivers on the road know that the owner of this truck is the kind of man who would actually spend $40 on a pair of fake balls. And also, presumably, to communicate that he is tough and shouldn't be messed with, and the reason he shouldn't be messed with is because his truck has fake testicles.
"Look out, other drivers!" the TruckNutz say. "Nuts in your face!"
TruckNutz are available in plastic and chrome, and come with varying amounts of wrinkles and veins. They measure up to six inches in length and are available in a full spectrum of colors, the most ironic of which is blue. Some of them light up in tandem with the truck's brake lights for maximum testicle visibility.
If this is the first time you've heard about TruckNutz, consider yourself lucky. Studies show that even just reading about them kills brain cells, which explains that little hissing sound you're hearing right now. Prolonged exposure to TruckNutz has been proven to cause permanent damage to such important lobes as the frontal, the temporal, the hernial and the not-listening-to-Nickelbackal.
I've been doing some thinking about why TruckNutz are popular. There's the obvious theory that TruckNutz owners are compensating for certain unmentionable shortcomings, by which I mean their tiny winkies. But these people are already driving large trucks. How much more compensation do they need? Apparently, two balls more.
But there's got to be something more to the story, some little X factor that separates a man who rolls his eyes at TruckNutz from a man who gently scoops them up and whispers, "You complete me."
One entry on Wikipedia identifies this factor as "machismo," which is Italian for "back hair." Another entry, which I created myself, classifies it as acute idiocy. Whatever the factor is, it's apparently spreading, particularly in the South, for reasons that are too obvious to makes jokes about.
Not surprisingly, TruckNutz are receiving a good amount of backlash from a certain demographic of Americans, comprised primarily of people who don't enjoy having someone else's balls in their face. The outcry of these non-consenting ball-lookers has prompted Florida officials to pass a law fining any driver up to $60 for exhibiting his Nutz. In Virginia, a law is pending that would result in a $250 fine per Nutz.
As one might expect, the TruckNutz backlash is now experiencing a backlash of its own. Upset Nutz owners across the country are ferociously defending their right to dangle their Nutz wherever and whenever they want, like Bill Clinton. It's a matter of free speech, they say. In America, everyone has a right to express his beliefs and opinions. For some people, that means starting a prayer group in school or staging a peace protest. For others, it means hanging a fake pair of balls from their bumpers.
The last thing I want to do is judge. If some dude wants to invest his money in rubber testicles, as opposed to, say, ending world hunger or reversing global warming or sending supplies to our troops, that's his personal, private business.
I think the crux of the issue here is that, ultimately, TruckNutz are just in really, really bad taste. But unfortunately, there is no law against bad taste, or Howie Mandel would be locked away in Sing Sing on 126 counts of douchery. What we're left with, I'm afraid, is a world in which Nutz must not only be tolerated, but embraced. The sooner we can reconcile ourselves to this fact, the sooner we can shift our focus back to the issues that really matter. Like Miley Cyrus.
Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some mail to open.
Mom!
