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OT: (PG rated) Why Men Die Before Women
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TexanMark Offline
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Last weekend I spied something at Larry's Pistol and Pawn that tickled my fancy. I bought something really cool for my wife, Toni. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my sweet girl. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized Tazer gun with a clip. The effects are supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect
on your assailant, but allowing you 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 so disappointed. I learned that if I pushed the button, however, and pressed it against a metal surface that I'd get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs that I was so looking forward to.

Awesome!!!

But 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, etc., etc. 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 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 kitty, after all.

But, if I was going to give this thing to Toni 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, Tazer 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 loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water.

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 friggin' 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 buddy," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny lil' 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 GUACAMOLE! DANG!!! I'm pretty sure that Jessie Ventura ran in through the front door, picked me up out of that recliner, then body slammed me on the carpet over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, soaking wet, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position.

Gracie was standing over me 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 Tazer, one note of caution. There is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You're not going to let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.

SON-OF-A-DUCK that hurt! A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at this point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they up get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both titties were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip
weighed 88 lbs., I'm pretty sure. By the way, has anyone seen my testicles? I think they ran away. I'm offering a reward.

Still in shock,

Insert any man's name here
06-10-2005 01:24 PM
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SF Husky Offline
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Post: #2
 
Funny as hell and we all feel for ya. However, I think the real reason most men die earlier is because of all the stress from constant nagging. At least in my family, women outlive men by 30+ years. While my grandpa died years ago, my grandma is still living well in her 90's.
06-10-2005 02:52 PM
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Yuleofell Offline
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Post: #3
 
A man just doesn't feel complete until he is married, then he if finished.
06-10-2005 02:58 PM
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TexanMark Offline
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Post: #4
 
Actually I didn't do this to myself--not that I haven't done plenty of stupid things in my life....and my wife is quick to remind me of all of them :laugh:
06-10-2005 03:01 PM
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cuseroc Offline
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Post: #5
 
TexanMark Wrote:Last weekend I spied something at Larry's Pistol and Pawn that tickled my fancy. I bought something really cool for my wife, Toni. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my sweet girl. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized Tazer gun with a clip. The effects are supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect
on your assailant, but allowing you 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 so disappointed. I learned that if I pushed the button, however, and pressed it against a metal surface that I'd get the blue arch of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs that I was so looking forward to.

Awesome!!!

But 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, etc., etc. 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 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 kitty, after all.

But, if I was going to give this thing to Toni 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, Tazer 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 loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water.

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 friggin' 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 buddy," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny lil' 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 GUACAMOLE! DANG!!! I'm pretty sure that Jessie Ventura ran in through the front door, picked me up out of that recliner, then body slammed me on the carpet over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, soaking wet, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position.

Gracie was standing over me 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 Tazer, one note of caution. There is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You're not going to let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.

SON-OF-A-DUCK that hurt! A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at this point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they up get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both titties were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip
weighed 88 lbs., I'm pretty sure. By the way, has anyone seen my testicles? I think they ran away. I'm offering a reward.

Still in shock,

Insert any man's name here
Only a Syracuse graduate would do such a dumb thing. :laugh: :laugh:
06-10-2005 03:47 PM
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