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July 22, 2009
July 21, 2009
July 16, 2009
A Gift for the Wife
Just try reading this without laughing till you cry!!!
Pocket Tazer Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Tazer for their anniversary submitted this:
Last weekend I saw something at Larry’s Pistol &Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse- sized tazer. The effects of the tazer 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 AAA 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 Julie 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 ou t 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 y on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and 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 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 dipshit,’ 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 heck of it. I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and . .
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD . . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION . . . WHAT THE HELL!!!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 making me owing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.
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 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?
IT HURT LIKE HELL!!!A minute or so later (I can’t be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I 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. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was. 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 had no control over the drooling.
Apparently I pooped on myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe came from my hair. I’m still looking for my nuts and I’m offering a significant reward for their safe return!P..s… My wife, can’t stop laughing about my experience, loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it!
If you think education is difficult, try being stupid !!!
July 11, 2009
Dusty Drawers
One evening a husband, thinking it would be being funny, said to his wife “Perhaps we should start washing your clothes in Slim Fast. Maybe it would take a few inches off of your butt!” His wife was not amused, and decided that she simply couldn’t let such a comment go unrewarded.
The next morning the husband took a pair of underwear out of his drawer. “What the Hell is this?” he said to himself as a small dust cloud appeared when he shook them out. ‘April,’ he hollered into the bathroom, “Why did you put talcum powder in my underwear?”
She replied with a snicker, “It’s not talcum powder honey… it’s Miracle Grow!”
July 10, 2009
July 2, 2009
The Fly
In the dead of summer, a fly was resting on a leaf beside a lake. It was a hot, dry fly who said to no one in particular: “Gosh, if I go down three inches, I will feel the mist from the water and I will be refreshed.”
There was a fish in the water, thinking, “Gosh, if that fly goes down three inches, I can eat him.”
There was a bear on the shore, thinking, “Gosh, if that fly goes down three inches, that fish will jump for the fly and I will eat him.”
It also happened that a hunter was farther up the bank of the lake preparing to eat a cheese sandwich. “Gosh,” he thought, “if that fly goes down three inches, and that fish leaps for it, that bear will expose himself and grab for the fish, at which point I’ll shoot the bear and then have a proper trophy.”
You think this is enough activity for one bank of one lake? There is more.
A wee mouse down by the hunter’s foot was thinking, “Gosh, if that fly goes down three inches and that fish jumps for that fly, and that bear grabs for that fish, the dumb hunter will shoot the bear and drop his cheese sandwich.”
A cat lurking in the bushes took in this scene and thought, as was fashionable to do on the bank of this particular lake around lunch time, “Gosh, if that fly goes down three inches and that fish jumps for that fly and that bear grabs for that fish and that hunter shoots that bear, and the mouse makes off with the cheese sandwich then I can have mouse for lunch.”
The poor fly is finally so hot and so dry that he heads down for the cooling mist of the water.
The fish swallows the fly.
The bear grabs the fish.
The hunter shoots the bear.
The mouse grabs the cheese sandwich.
The cat jumps for the mouse.
The mouse ducks, and
The cat falls into the water and drowns.
The moral of this story is:
Whenever a fly goes down three inches, some pussy is probably in danger.
Howdy!
Apropos of Nothing 