a buddy of mine, retired master sgt., just sent this to me. too funny!
and now... we know. :) (p.s. sorry if the formatting's a bit off!)
Dear Friends,
My wife Toni is fond of saying that my last words on this earth will be something akin to, "hey y'all, hold my beer and watch this!" Well, I have outdone myself once again. No doubt you will see this true story
chronicled in a Lifetime movie in the near future. Here goes.
Last weekend I spied something at Larry's Pistol and Pawn that tickled my fancy. (Note: Keep in mind that my "fancy" is easily tickled). I bought something really cool for Toni. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my sweet girl.
What I came cross 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--way too cool!
Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two
triple-a 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 arc 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 arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs that
I was so looking forward to. I did so. Awesome!!! Sparks, a blue arc of
electricity, and a loud pop!!! Yippee . . I'm easily amused, just for
your information, but I have yet to explain to Toni 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 cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting
little soul), reading the directions (that would be me, not Gracie) and
thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood
target. I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie for a fraction of a
second and thought better of it. She is such a sweet kitty, after all.
But, if I was going to give this thing to Toni 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.
So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses
perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, Tazer
in another. 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, pretty cute really, and loaded with
two itsy, bitsy triple-a batteries) thinking to myself, "no friggin'
way!"
Friggin' way--trust me, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
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, Gracie looking on with her head cocked
to one side as to say, "don't do it buddy," reasoning that a one-second
burst from such a tiny lil' ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad (sound,
rational thinking under the circumstances, wouldn't you agree?). I decided
to give myself 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
**************!
DAaaaauuuuuuMN!!! 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. Gracie
was standing over me making meowing sounds I had never heard before,
licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, "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. My reading glasses were on
the mantel of the fireplace. 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, rather large, kinda hairy, and handsome
if I must say so myself. Miss 'em . . . sure would like to get 'em back.
