A Gift for the Wife!

This is why we should all have guns to protect ourselves!!!

Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & amp;
Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was
our 15nd Anniversary(March 6th), and I was looking for a little
something 'extra' for my wife.

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 l ong-term adverse affect on the
assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to
safety.... WAY TOO COOL!

Long story short, I bought the device, and brought it
home. I loaded two triple-A batteries in the 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 the Wife 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 with 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
only a fraction of a second) and then thought better
of it. She's 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 disorie nt 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 just 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 little bitty, 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
master,' reasoning that a one-second burst from such a
tiny little ole thing couldn't POSSIBLY hurt all that
bad...

I decided to give myself a one-second burst, just for
the heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked
thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY MOTHER OF GOD,
WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION @!@$$!%!

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, 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 standing over me making meowing sounds I
had never heard before, licking my face, and
undoubtedly thinking to h erself, 'do it again, do it
again!'

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. SON-OF-A-%#&**%#... that hurt!!!

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. (How did they up get there???)

My triceps, right thigh, and both nipples were still
twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with
Novocain, and my bott om lip weighed 88 lbs.

I'm still looking for my testicles. I'm offering a
significant reward for their safe return.

Frantz

	Beemaster's Beekeeping Ring
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