09-16-2004, 08:47 PM
I cut out about half of his crap story which is here. Here's the "good" part:
He got a tazer gun and though he needed to test it:
shocking :o
He got a tazer gun and though he needed to test it:
Quote: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 bloody way!" Bloody way--trust me, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
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 Dad Dam Cr @p! DAM!!! 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, n-pples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, soaking wet, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position. Molly was standing over me making whimpering sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, "do it again daddy, do it again!" (Note: If you ever feel compelled to mug yourself with a Tazer, one note of caution. [b]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-Biscuit-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 n-pples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, as my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. +/- an ounce or two, I'm pretty sure.
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shocking :o
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