Anniversary Gift

[Woody]

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 suppose 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 betweenthe 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-secondburst 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 @<hidden>!@<hidden>$$!! %!@<hidden>*!!! 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, privates 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 besure, 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 get 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 privates!! I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return.

[fuzzymike]

Whew......

[Jeff]

When I was young and dumb I moved into a rental house owned by a USAF TSgt. It was in pitiful shape but when you're desperate for housing almost anything looks good. After moving in the first thing I learned is there was no electricity in the house. I checked the circuit breaker box and sure enough the main breaker was tripped. I atttempted reset but it wouldn't reset. I could hear a scraping sound as I moved the main breaker and it wouldn't latch. Being poor and somewhat inventive I decided to remove the breaker for repair. I didn't have sense enough to pull the meter and so I removed it hot. That part was successful. I then looked at the circuit breaker and it had a little air hole in it. I decided to clean the breaker by pouring dishwasher fluid and water into the air hole. I got lots of suds and after flushing it out (a lot of grit came out with the suds) and eventually the water ran clear. I bothered my neighbor and asked to use their oven for awhile. I put the breaker in the oven and baked it dry at about 200F. I let it cool and checked it out. It now latched fine. It was dusk when I began the reinstallation using my heavy duty Craftsman screwdriver. I was careful but not careful enough and the Craftsman slipped past a bus bar and zap! In an instant the Craftsman turned cherry red and the bus bars in the panel fused themselves together. When I sat up I was about twenty feet from the circuit breaker box still holding the cherry red Craftsman. The lights in the house were on and I wasn't sure what happened until I saw the fused bus bars. I looked at the panel and figured out how to correct the problem. I was ultimately successful however I did learn one thing, "Don't f**k with electricity!" I still have the burned out Craftsman screwdriver (although its completely useless for its intended purpose). I've kept it as a reminder for almost 40 years.

[Textech]

Proud to have you as a fellow sim tech. I got my start by sticking a rubberized magnet on the prongs of a halfway plugged in extension cord at the age of four. I liked the way it tingled. Now, forty+ years later, I couldn't count the screwdrivers that I've caused to go into whoops meltdown.