I would play hockey without a helmet

but never without a cup

Truck nuts. You’ve seen them - those globular, obscene testicle replicas that hang from the back of jacked up pick ups. They attract a certain kind of crass, obscene individual. I love them.

Truck nuts are funny. Testicles are really funny. There are few things on this earth as fundamentally and naturally funny as a set of nuts. I love my nuts.

In therapy school, one of the leaders had me spend an entire day with my hands on my nuts. “Check in,” she told me. “Ground yourself.” As a man, it is certainly reassuring to know that my balls are there. This is why my late birthday present from my wife was so wonderful.

She, upon returning from Toronto presented me with a set of silicone nuts. Not truck nuts. I don’t have a truck. And as much as I would love to display a pair of bobbling testes from the back of my Honda Fit, I don’t have a trailer hitch to hang them. Luckily, I don’t need a trailer hitch for this gift.

Laura brought me a pair of bike balls. They are silicone nuts that, much like…