Stun gun ....... ONLY A GUY WOULD DO THIS!!!
Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. (This was submitted by
a guy who purchased his lovely wife a "pocket Taser" for their
anniversary.)
Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparkedmy interest. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking fora little something extra for my wife Toni.
What I came across was a100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were
suppose to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on yourassailant, 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 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
arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.
Awesome!!! (unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Toni 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 ca! t. 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, 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 to say, "don't do it master," 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 the heck of it. I touched the
prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY MOTHER, 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 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 overme
making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face,
undoubtedly thinking to herself, "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 like hell!!! A minute or so later (I can't be
sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), 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 get up
there??? 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'm still looking for my testicles? I'm offering a
significant reward for their safe return.
Still in shock,
Billy
Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. (This was submitted by
a guy who purchased his lovely wife a "pocket Taser" for their
anniversary.)
Last weekend I saw something at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparkedmy interest. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking fora little something extra for my wife Toni.
What I came across was a100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were
suppose to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on yourassailant, 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 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
arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.
Awesome!!! (unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Toni 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 ca! t. 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, 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 to say, "don't do it master," 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 the heck of it. I touched the
prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY MOTHER, 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 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 overme
making meowing sounds I had never heard before, licking my face,
undoubtedly thinking to herself, "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 like hell!!! A minute or so later (I can't be
sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), 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 get up
there??? 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'm still looking for my testicles? I'm offering a
significant reward for their safe return.
Still in shock,
Billy
