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.

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 thoug ht about zapping Gracie (for a fraction
of a second). 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.

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.

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 to say, 'don't do it
dipshit,' 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 atempt 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 note 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?

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 Novocaine, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.

I had no control over the drooling. Apparently I messed
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 nuts 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!

'If you think Education is difficult, try being stupid.


Thought you guys could use a good laugh

I read that a couple years ago, and it was just as funny the second time. I love that story

That's a riot..

And we can solves the engery crisis by inflating our tires. lol that is a funny story.