This was so hilarious, I had to share..
- enjoy -
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My friends are 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 had gone into
the Star Market to pick up some milk yesterday and I bought a superball in the
checkout line 50 cents.
What a bargain! It tickled my fancystill does.
That thing bounces soooooo high, and it has provided me with hours of
entertainment. It just doesn't get any better than that, now does it?)
I'm so easily distracted.
That dang superball is so much fun.
So what were we talking about? Oh yeah, I bought something really cool at
Larry's Pistol and Pawn last Saturday.
The occasion was my 50th birthday and I was looking for a little something
extra cool. 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
outway 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 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!!!
Yipeeeeee . . . I'm easily amused.
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 Molly looking on intently (trusting little
soul), reading the directions (that would be me, not Molly), and thinking that I
really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood target.
I must admit I thought about zapping Molly for a fraction of a second and
thought better of it. She is such a sweet doggy, after all.
But, if I was going to use this thing to protect myself 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 bloody way!" Bloody waytrust
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, Molly looking on with her head cocked to one side as
to say, "don't do it daddy," 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 hindsightalways 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 F**king
Chit! DAMN!!!
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.
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. 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-BIAAATCH 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 nipples 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.
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.
Yours Truly.
Bubba