Reading several blogs recently where women bemoan not being able to find the perfect guy and bitching about the guys in their lives. I'm not belittling what they wrote, it was heartfelt and I wish there was a way I could help. As a community service, I thought I'd post something I got in an email today. It gives a scary glimpse into the way we men think at times. :) This is almost as funny as the guy who shaved his behind, but I'll save that one for later, LOL.
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 sparked my interest. The occasion was our 22nd
anniversary and 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 your 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
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 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 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, 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 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 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 up get
there??? 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'm
still looking for my testicles? I'm offering a
significant reward for their safe return.
Still in shock, Tommy.