I had to send this. This is probably not true but it is funny.
 
All I have to say is . . Why? You'll notice you never here of a girl doing 
things like this.
 
Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. A guy who purchased his 
lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary submitted this :
 
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. 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 arch of 
electricity darting back and forth between the prongs. Awesome!!!
 
Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Betty 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. Was 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-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 OF GOD, WEAPONS OF MASS [EMAIL PROTECTED]@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
 
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 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.

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