Hey y'all, hold my beer and watch this!
Posted: Thu Sep 16, 2004 7:54 amDear Friends,
My wife Kathy 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
Kathy.
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 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 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 Kathy 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 Kathy 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 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 **************! 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.
Dan
My wife Kathy 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
Kathy.
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 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 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 Kathy 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 Kathy 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 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 **************! 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.
Dan
