I've tried about seventy different prescriptions of rose-colored glasses to look at this one. No matter how strong they are (and in this latest pair, Stalin looks like the pancake bunny), this name still grosses me out.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAxt8r8HZFO4Olt4LYvB3zXnl4_ZB4waHgsIse9hBcdDwEq-gLyOoGj29MHoX1zJY-D5dwaAK5PiXWxnLsOgxGXgVovnQJpamX0x6zcrVjTstraAELGfvdMUMIQyVnU9IQY2oosAsOtgU/s320/Meet+Balls.jpg)
Meet Balls?
I mean, is the goal to look like you just dipped your fingers in squishy globules of ground up cow flesh?
Or...is it a tantalizing promise of your social life to come?
Either way, let me reiterate: eww.
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