We got passed by this truck on I-70. Living in San Francisco, we were blissfully unaware of any trend in testicled trucks, and this came as quite a shock. We were stuck behind this guy for a few miles because a semi had overturned ahead of us on a steep grade and traffic had slowed to a crawl, so Dutch and I spent the time speculating whether the dick was supposed to be the truck itself or the guy driving it. Either way, I guess.

Still, the balls on this truck have nothing on the giant balls dangling from the hindquarters of the male elk that was blocking my friend's driveway at midnight when we returned to her cabin in the mountains west of Boulder. She lives with no cell service or internet access, just mountains and giant elk testicles.

Tonight, with any luck: Kansas (and a decent internet connection).