Text 548, 103 rader
Skriven 2004-11-26 20:52:06 av Howie Coombe
     Kommentar till en text av Jim Holsonback
Ärende: Re: SPAM
================
Dear Jim, in regards to this message to Wayne Chirnside i will reply soon.

 > Agreed.  I say such folk should go to jail.  Some of them think they
 > are training a watchdog or guard dog, but end up with a dog which is
 > quite prone to attack other animals, children, or even adults.
 > 
 >  *********************
 > Subject: The Tazer, the Dogs, and Miss Rachel
 > 
 > Dear Friends and Family,
 > 
 > Miss Rachel is fond of saying that my last words on this earth will 
 > be
 > something akin to, "Hey y'all, hold my beer and watch this!" Well,
 > I have outdone myself once again. Here goes.  Last weekend I spied something
at Larry's Pistol and Pawn that tickled my fancy. (Note: Keep in mind that my
"fancy" is easily tickled. Rachel sent me into Publix to pick up some milk
yesterday and I bought a superball in the checkout line--50 cents. What a
bargain! It tickled my fancy--still does. That thing bounces soooooo high, and
it has provided me with hours of entertainment. It just doesn't get any better
than that, now does it?) I'm so easily distracted. That dang superball is so
much fun. So what were we talking about? Oh yeah, I bought something really
cool at Larry's Pistol and Pawn last Saturday. The occasion was our 18th
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. For those of you who are not familiar with this product, it is a
less-than-lethal stun gun with two metal prongs designed to incapacitate an
assailant with a shock of high-voltage, low amperage electricity while you flee
to safety. 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. You simply jab the prongs into your 250 lb. tattooed assailant, push
the button, and it will render him a slobbering, goggle-eyed, muscle-twitching,
whimpering, pencil-neck geek. If you've never seen one of these things in
action, then you're truly missing out--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. Upon reading the
directions (we don't need no stinkin' directions), I found much to my chagrin
that this particular model would not create an arch between the prongs. How
disappointing! I do love fire for effect. 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. I did so. Awesome!!! Sparks, a blue arch of electricity,
and a loud pop!!! Yipeeeeee . . . I'm easily amused, just fyi, but I have yet
to explain to Rachel what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave . .
.Hooboy. 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 Dobies Mako and Zora looking on intently (trusting
little twerps), reading the directions (that would be me, not them), and
thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood
target. I must admit I thought about zapping Mako for a fraction of a second
and thought better of it. She is such a sweet doggy, after all. But, if I was
going to give this thing to Rachel to protect herself against a mugger, I did
want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? Was I wrong
to think that? Seemed reasonable to me at the time. 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!" Friggin' way--trust me, but I'm getting ahead of
myself. What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best.
Those of you who know me well have got a pretty good idea of what followed. I'm
sitting there alone, Mako and Zora looking on with their heads cocked to one
side as to say, "Don't do it dumbass," reasoning that a one-second burst from
such a tiny lil' ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad (sound, rational thinking
under the circumstances, wouldn't you agree?). I decided to give myself a
one-second burst just for the hell of it. Note: You know, a bad decision is
like hindsight--always twenty-twenty. It is so obvious that it was a bad
decision after the fact, even though it seemed so right at the time. {Don't ya
hate that?) I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY
**************!DAaaaauuuuuuMN!!! 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. Mako was standing
over me making whimpering sounds I had never heard before, licking my face,
undoubtedly thinking to herself, "Do it again dumbass, 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. Then, if you're lucky, you won't dislodge one of
the prongs 1/4" deep in your thigh like yours truly.) SON-OF-A-***** that hurt!
A minute/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
get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both titties were still twitching. My
face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, as my bottom lip weighed 88
lbs. +/- an ounce/two, I'm pretty sure. By the way, has anyone seen my
testicles? I think they ran away. I'm offering a reward. They're round, rather
large, kinda hairy, and handsome if I must say so myself. They make a clanging
sound, and were last seen hanging from Rachel's rearview mirror. Miss 'em . . .
sure would like to get 'em back. NOTE TO MEN: DO NOT buy your wife a Tazer gun.
Rachel's is broke now and it may be awhile before I get around to fixing the
damn thing. NOTE TO WOMEN: Buy lots of batteries . . . think of the
possibilities. This message is provided to you as a public service to
illustrate that stupid should hurt, and most assuredly always does in my case.
Have a nice day! Tim ***********************

--- FLAME v2.0/b
 * Origin: Common Ground +61-8-8223-2131 - Telnet cg.dircsa.org.au (3:800/816)