The Taser Incident              Back to Man vs. Woman / Back Home

Thanks to JLVeer for sending this one!

Just try reading this without laughing till you cry!!! (not
possible)

Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. A guy who
purchased his
lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary submitted this:

Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that
sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was
looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came
across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse- sized taser. The effects of the
taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect
on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety and
every woman needs something to protect herself with, right??
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 disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the
button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get
the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.
AWESOME!!!

Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie 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,
right?

There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently
(trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking
that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving
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 cat. 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?

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, and
taser 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 major loss of bodily control; a three-second
burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a
fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting
the batteries.

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
possible way!'
What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my
best...?

I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked
to one side as if to say, 'don't do it dummy,' reasoning that a one
second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that
bad. I decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it. I
touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and . .

HOLY MOTHER OF GOD . . . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION .. . . WHAT THE
HELL!!!

I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me
up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and
over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal
position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire,
testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in
the oddest position, and tingling in my legs.

The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to
a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to
avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.

Note: If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself with a taser, one
word of caution: there is no such thing as a one second burst when you
zap yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged
from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.. A three
second burst would be considered conservative.

IT HURT LIKE HELL!!!

A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at
that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and
surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of
the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from
where it originally was. My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were
still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain,
and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I had no control over the drooling.

Apparently I pooped on myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my
sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I
believe came from my hair. I'm still looking for my testicles and I'm
offering a significant reward for their safe return!!

P. S. My wife loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it!
 

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