somthin i ran across thought ya might get a kick out of it
To give you some background information, Rex, the author of this email,
is in his mid 40's about 6'4 and 220 lbs and contrary to this story, he is
quite an intelligent person.
Dear Friends,
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 Lifetime movie in the near future.
Here goes.
Last weekend I spied something at the Pawn shop that tickled my fancy.
(Note: Keep in mind that my "fancy" is easily tickled.)
I bought something really cool for my wife. The occasion was our 22nd
anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my sweet
girl.
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 - way too cool!
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 that I was so looking forward to. I did so. 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 dog looking on intently (trusting little
soul), reading the directions (that would be me, not the dog) and thinking
that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood target. I
must admit I thought about zapping the dog for a fraction
of a second and thought better of it. She is such a sweet pup, after all.
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.
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 AAA 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, the dog 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 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 dog
was standing over me making 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-BISQUIT-EATER 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. Miss 'em ......sure would
like to get 'em back.
To give you some background information, Rex, the author of this email,
is in his mid 40's about 6'4 and 220 lbs and contrary to this story, he is
quite an intelligent person.
Dear Friends,
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 Lifetime movie in the near future.
Here goes.
Last weekend I spied something at the Pawn shop that tickled my fancy.
(Note: Keep in mind that my "fancy" is easily tickled.)
I bought something really cool for my wife. The occasion was our 22nd
anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my sweet
girl.
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 - way too cool!
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 that I was so looking forward to. I did so. 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 dog looking on intently (trusting little
soul), reading the directions (that would be me, not the dog) and thinking
that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood target. I
must admit I thought about zapping the dog for a fraction
of a second and thought better of it. She is such a sweet pup, after all.
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.
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 AAA 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, the dog 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 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 dog
was standing over me making 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-BISQUIT-EATER 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. Miss 'em ......sure would
like to get 'em back.
