September 21, 2004


I wouldn't consider myself a "car guy." (The condition of my moaning and wailing O-Mobile would be tangible proof of that.) But I do enjoy seeing what people do with and to their sleds.
Tom Mangan has some great pics over at his site that display the entries at a recent Car Art event in San Jose.
One guy decorated his car with tons of snow globes. Another made a Scoobymobile. My favorite is one that Tom dubbed "Rudolph the Red-Assed Reindeer."
It reminded me of some cool rides I saw at Bike Fest two weekends ago in Ybor City. Although somewhat amputated by Hurricane Frances and the incoming-at-the-time Ivan, there were still plenty of great bikes to see.
Then I noticed the one above in particular. I didn't get the make, but the owner had tricked it out with glow lights throughout. Made a great eerie glow in the dark.
Then I looked in the back and saw this:
What's the statement here? "I have really small testicles?" "My balls are so pendulous that they stretch out my pants and drag Wile E. Coyote-style behind my rear tire?" Maybe it's "I'm so desperate to compensate for my lack of manly endowment that not only must I ride a crotch rocket, I must display someone else's testicular fortitude."
Whatever the intended idea, there seems to be quite a bit of ball action going on along the streets of Hillsborough County. A couple days after seeing the motorcycle, I saw this on the way to work:
Balls on a pickup truck, maybe I can understand. First, they swing on a pivot. Reason? I don't know. Perhaps verisimilitude was what the owner was seeking. Second, you expect less frontal lobe reasoning from the owner of a truck that not only has testicles flopping in the wind but also feels the need to jack up the chassis. So to say.
Maybe it's not just vehicle owners. The nation seems to have somewhat of a public genitalia display obsession of late.
Take, for example, the night we went crawling around Ybor and Bike Fest. We ended the evening at a piano bar called "Howl At The Moon." It sounds more frou-frou than it really was. Turns out it was more of a singalong club than anything else.
Anyway, my friends Drew and Mike and our significant others were all standing at the bar watching the hijinx when a bried-to-be comes strolling by wearing wedding veil. Seems she and her friends were visiting the club during her bachelorette party.
Then we noticed the veil.
What's the significance of that? Some sort of tally of tallywhackers you've had? Ancient drinking fertility ritual?
It was weird enough that my buddy Drew had to document it for himself:
Obi Wan has taught you well...
Then I see the Bride of Schwantzenstein do this:
I'm going to give her the benefit of the doubt that she was ordering two adult beverages. But when you consider the beverage container in her left hand that she was drinking from, I don't think I really want to know what she was referring to.


My kid can kick your honor student's ass.

Rude gesticulating cat mudflaps.

Half-naked drunken cowboy on horseback with groceries.

Trucks with huge plastic chickens on them.

Posted by Jeff at September 21, 2004 05:49 AM | TrackBack