A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Taser for their
anniversary submitted this :
Last weekend at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop I was looking for a little
something extra for my wife Toni. 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 an
assailant. The idea is to allow my wife -- who would never consider a
gun -- adequate time to retreat to safety. WAY TOO COOL!
Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded in
two triple-a batteries and pushed the button. Nothing! I was
disappointed. But then I read (yes, 'read') 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 and
I'd know it was working.
Awesome!!! (Actually, I have yet to explain to Toni what that bu rn 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 and 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-secon d 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.
So, I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to
one side as to say, "don't do it," 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 OF GOD,
WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION @!@$$!%!@*!!!
I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me
up in the recliner, and 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.
You should know, if you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a
taser, that 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.
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), I collected what
little wits 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, Earl
anniversary submitted this :
Last weekend at Larry's Pistol & Pawn Shop I was looking for a little
something extra for my wife Toni. 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 an
assailant. The idea is to allow my wife -- who would never consider a
gun -- adequate time to retreat to safety. WAY TOO COOL!
Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded in
two triple-a batteries and pushed the button. Nothing! I was
disappointed. But then I read (yes, 'read') 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 and
I'd know it was working.
Awesome!!! (Actually, I have yet to explain to Toni what that bu rn 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 and 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-secon d 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.
So, I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to
one side as to say, "don't do it," 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 OF GOD,
WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION @!@$$!%!@*!!!
I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me
up in the recliner, and 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.
You should know, if you ever feel compelled to "mug" yourself with a
taser, that 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.
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), I collected what
little wits 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, Earl
