I’ll admit it, I briefly laughed the first time I saw a set of testicles hanging from the tow bar of a ute. It appealed to my juvenile sense of humour – Haha, that car has balls!
By the tenth time, the joke was starting to wear thin. By the hundredth, I began to have serious doubts about the ability of a certain kind of young bloke to think for himself. These days they are so prevalent on the back of utes driven by young Australian men that I wonder whether car companies are offering them as an optional extra. Nuts on utes are a part of life in this country.
They are so common that I really don’t even notice them anymore. That is, unless one chooses to display their car cojones in a way that slaps you in the face, so to speak.
This brings us to the first contender for the title of Man I Least Want My Daughter To Date. I don’t know his real name and God willing I never will. For the purpose of this post I shall simply refer to the numpty* as ‘Testicle Joe’. At this point I’d like to state that I know I will never have any real control over who my daughter dates when she is old enough. She is already an intelligent strong-minded little girl at one year old and I don’t believe I will have any control over such things, nor do I really want to.
I know it’s wrong to judge a man by the genitalia with which he adorns his vehicle, but in this case, I just can’t help it. It’s not the carefully-crafted nutsack, complete with intricate veins and wrinkles that bothers me, so much as his choice of placement and the manner in which he has done so.
As you can see in the photo, Testicle Joe has chosen not to hang his goolies from the traditional place below the tow-bar, but instead prominently off the ladder rack. He seems to have failed entirely to see the way in which the traditional placement enables the car to mimic the stance of a well-hung bull or a Rottweiler. Instead, he has placed them behind what would be the ear of the beast. Now I don’t know about you, but the mental image of a raging bull with a testicle earing does not make me tremble in fear and awe.
With that placement, surely every time Testicle Joe touches the brakes too hard he gets a knock on his rear window. Imagine what date night must be like – parked in a beautiful moonlit spot by the beach. The sound of the waves gently lapping at the shore and the nads gently slapping the back of the truck as they sway freely in the breeze.
Further to this, Testicle Joes has padlocked his family jewels firmly in place, thus ensuring that they are not stolen or otherwise removed. You know, because that’s what every petty criminal in Sydney is on the lookout for – a giant set of metal bollocks.
I can only hypothesise as to Testicle Joe’s motives for the placement of his bronze gonads, but this is what I came up with.
- He is massively overcompensating for his own, less-than-spectacular manhood
- He is trying to convince the world of something that does not, in fact, exist
- He is declaring his absolute adoration for that particular part of the male anatomy
- His name is actually ‘Testicle Joe’ and the giant knackers are his mascot
- He’s been stitched up by a mate, who told him that they are ‘good luck balls’, and they only work if they are hung in that particular spot.
Whatever your motivation may be, Testicle Joe, please stay away from my family.
*Word of the week, brought to you by Mr Kitney. If you aren’t following him on Twitter yet, you should be.