That's right... I said it: Paula Abdul has a nutsack THIS BIG. (True, I could've been a bit more physiologically accurate and said, "Paula Abdul has a vagina THIS BIG"... but the implication isn't quite the same, is it?)

Why is Paula Abdul's ball-bag so remarkably huge? Well, who else would quit one of the cushiest jobs ever (being a judge on one of the most popular shows in the world, American Idol) unless their scrabble-bag was truly of gigantic proportions? It's not like the job market is all that great right now for reality show judges who clap like a seal, cry at the drop of a hat, and drift off into nonsensical narcotic-fueled monologues. And in case you didn't know, Paula made a poop-ton of moolah doing Idol (some say up to $2 million last year)—and she slept through half the season! Plus Paula's gone from a F-list nobody to one of the world's most recognizable celebrities—and after achieving all that, she's just gonna get up (or be propped up) and walk away? I'm talking ginormous testicles here, people!!

Oh, but there's more! According to the Hollywood Reporter, sources say that Abdul left the negotiating table when producers refused to meet her salary demands of... gulp... 20 million dollars?!? True, that was for a multi-year deal... but what was she thinking? Is she planning on buying the Pfizer corporation, so she'll have a lifetime of custom-made drugs to dump down her throat? It's no wonder she always looks like she's about to fall over—you'd wobble like a weeble too, if your gonads were that freaking elephantine!

That's why I'm all for Paula leaving Idol and moving on to a different job that's better suited to her talents—mmmm... such as... maybe painting herself black, and becoming a performing seal (clap, clap). I also hear there are plenty of positions open in the "medical school cadaver" field. OOH! Or if she wanted to continue judging, she could get her own Judge Judy-type show, except call it Judge Abdul and base it in Saudi Arabia where she could rule on cases about women who ride in cars with men who aren't their relatives, and then sentence them to getting their hands cut off. Or she could rent out her colossal cylindrical genitalia to boulder-climbing instructors. Or something else, maybe. Dude, she can do whatever she wants! THE WORLD IS HER OYSTER(S)!

That's why I'd like to say, here's to you, Paula Abdul! I'm giving you a 1980s movie-style standing ovation slow clap, for putting your monolithic testes on exhibition and giving the finger to (a) the disturbingly creepy sexual advances of Simon Cowell, (b) the sad repetitiveness of Randy "What's Up, Dawg?" Jackson, (c) the grating ego of Karla What's-Her-Name, (d) the seemingly bottomless pit of annoyingly untalented contestants, (e) the wry wit of Ryan Seacrest (I kind of like him, actually), and (f) the cumulative cluster-eff that is American Idol. I would have also applauded the size of your Herculean hairy cantaloupes carelessly swinging from your nethers—but they're so incredibly huge, my hands were crushed.