I would like to introduce all of you impressionable young minds to Mr. Balls, a testicular cancer mascot created by a Brazilian cancer awareness group. Let’s just dive in, shall we? Are you ready to go balls-deep into this subject?
First of all, I don’t think Mr. Balls (Senhor Testiculo if you want his Christian name) is really effective. If you see a hairy, mole-covered Middle Eastern-looking scrotum approaching you in public, you are more likely to run and find some battery acid to throw in your eyes than to go get your balls checked for lumps.
Secondly, people are already scared of balls. I’m gay and I still don’t like to spend that much time down there. This cancer awareness’s decision to make Mr. Balls so scary looking seems less like cancer outreach to me, and more like anti-testes propaganda.
Thirdly, as a gay man I have seen more than a few Brazilian nut-sacks. They are more shiny and bald than Howie Mandel’s grossly hairless pedo-head, which means that Mr. Balls doesn’t adequately represent the dangly bits of the typical Brazilian man.
Last of all, (and I am aware that this is a bit nit-picky) if you are trying to sell people on getting regularly tested for cancer, your mascot should probably have a more modern haircut. Mr. Balls clearly borrowed Michael Jackson’s gheri curl wig from the Thriller video, then doused it in Soul-Glo and walked through a monsoon.
I like the message that you should check out your balls regularly.
I love the message that you should check out other people’s balls regularly.
But I fear that after seeing the horror that is Mr. Balls, the only thing I will be checking is the empty space underneath my bed where monsters like Mr. Balls hide, waiting to pull me into a special kind of Hell where nobody shaves their pubes and tea-bagging is as commonplace as a handshake.
Mr. Balls, out doing The Lord’s work.
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