| very funny story
=D read it all
A Tazer Story
My wife is fond of saying that my last words on this earth will be
something akin to "Well, I have out done myself once again." No doubt
you will see this true story chronicled in a Life Time movie in the
near future. Here goes.
Last weekend I spied something at the Pawnshop that tickled my fancy. I bought something really cool for my wife. The occasion was for our 29th anniversary (January 3rd) and I was looking for a little something extra for her. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized Tazer gun with a clip. For those of you who are not familiar with this product, it is a less-than-lethal stun gun with two metal prongs designed to incapacitate an assailant with a shock of high-voltage, low amperage electricity while you flee to safety. The effects are supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, but allowing you adequate time to retreat to safety. You simply jab the prongs into your 250 lb tattooed assailant, push the button, and it will render him a slobbering, goggle-eyed, muscle-twitching, whimpering, pencil-neck geek. If you've never seen one of these things in action, then you're truly missing out!
Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing! I was so disappointed. Upon reading the directions (we don't need no stinkin' directions), I found much to my chagrin that this particular model would not create an arch between the prongs. How disappointing! I do love fire for effect. I learned that if I pushed the button, however, and pressed it against a metal surface that I'd get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs. Awesome!!!
Sparks, a blue arch of electricity, and a loud pop!!! Yipeeeeee. I'm easily amused, just for your information, but I have yet to explain to her what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.
Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-a batteries, etc., etc. There I sat in my recliner, my dogs Daisy/Roscoe/Hobo) looking on intently (trusting little souls), reading the directions (that would be me, not the dog) and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh target. I must admit I thought about zapping the dogs for a fraction of a second and thought better of it. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong?
Was I wrong to think that? Seemed reasonable to me at the time. The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water.
All the while I'm looking at this little device (measuring about 5"
long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference, and loaded with two itsy, bitsy AAA batteries) thinking to myself, "no friggin' way!"
What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best. Those of you who know me well have got a pretty good idea of what followed. I'm sitting there alone, the dogs looking on "don't do it buddy," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny thing couldn't hurt all that bad. (Sounds, rational thinking under the circumstances, wouldn't you agree?) I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the hell of it.
(Note: You know, a bad decision is like hindsight-always
twenty-twenty. It is so obvious that it was a bad decision after the
fact, even though it seemed so right at the time. Don't ya hate that?) I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY *********!!!! I'm pretty sure that Jessie Ventura ran in through the front door, picked me up out of that recliner, then body slammed me on the carpet over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, soaking wet, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position. The dogs were standing over me making sounds I had never heard before, Roscoe licking my face, undoubtedly thinking, "do it again, do it again!"
(Note: If you ever feel compelled to mug yourself with a Tazer, one
note of caution. There is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You're not going to let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor. Then, if you're lucky, you won't dislodge one of the prongs 1/4" deep in your thigh like yours truly.)
SON-OF-A-***** that hurt! A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at this point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. How did they get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both titties were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, as my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. give or take an ounce or two, I'm pretty sure. By the way, has anyone seen my testicles? I think they ran away.
I'm offering a reward. They're round, Miss 'em ..... sure would like
to get'em back.
Wishing you a Very Merry Christmas and a Happy, Healthy and Prosperous 2006!
|
