JW,
Driving through a major Southern city this morning, I came across a fellow who had fashioned a pair of testicles out of tennis balls and socks. They were swinging from the trailer hitch of his Chevy pickup, nearly brushing the ground as he maneuvered through traffic. Seeing this display, I realized anew that Obama's attempts to remake this country in the image of socialist Europe cannot be wholly successful. Not while testicle guy lives. Not while he's still out there.
To be honest, I haven't been this proud to be a Southerner since the time I saw a University of Georgia fan teasing a South Carolina fan for liking cocks . . . in front of his granddaughter. Seeing this Chevy was like the first night of Shiloh. We've cleared the field, and the Northern aggressors are fleeing into the Tennessee.
Unfortunately, Obama's press conference tonight promises to be the political equivalent of the arrival of Buell's reinforcements. I know that we've reached the point of destroying our own televisions to rid ourselves of the very sight of the guy, but for some reason, the rest of the nation still seems to enjoy the dithering. Personally, I'm expecting a hearty session of what I've come to recognize as the "Hem and Haw Fillibuster." Receiving a question of any depth from his minions in the press room, Obama will proceed to say the word "um" seventeen times in a row while staring at the left hand corner of the ceiling. The assembled press, astonished by the president's eloquence, will fall into a respectful silence, and the question will pass unanswered. Just you watch.
As for me, let's just say that my evening will consist of the purchasing of some cotton footwear. I've got the tennis gear already. Join me?
-GM
GM,
I also spent some time driving through the South yesterday, and I saw a guy who embodied our vision for America even more. See, he too was driving a Chevy pickup (fittingly, my very next rest stop involved hearing John Mellencamp's "This Is Our Country" while using the urinal). But my guy didn't find an old pair of gym socks and steal a couple of tennis balls from his dog's play area to capture the desired effect (we know your guy doesn't play tennis). My guy actually stimulated the free market by purchasing the testicles from someone who had the balls (yes, literally) to make a business out of it. These things actually have a brand name--probably a few actually--but a quick Google search led me to http://www.bumpernuts.com/. I have little doubt that the person who runs this site makes more money than both of us combined. And that's the greatness that is "Our Country." What isn't "Our Country" is the parental attempt to outlaw BumperNuts and products of the like. Hey, I think testicle guy is a buffoon, and I can't decide if it's a testosterone excess or deficiency, or just a poor sense of humor, that drives someone to "genderize" his truck. But I can't condone any effort to outlaw truck genitalia until BumperNuts includes the entire male reproductive organ. As I just heard Obama say in his speech, let's keep it to a "single-pair system."
What I mainly don't understand is the confusion that automobile owners have expressed over the years when it comes to naming their vehicles. I thought cars and trucks were exclusively female. Perhaps there's a certain poetry to testicle guy's testicular statement. Maybe he wasn't even a guy! Maybe it was a feminist who wanted to draw similarities between GM's historical product development and the typically stubborn man. "A Chevy truck must be a man!" If that's the case, I'll give the devil her due.
-JW
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