Eye Test

A Polish immigrant went to the DMV to apply for a driver's license. First, of course, he had to take an eye sight test. The optician showed him a card with the letters: 'C Z W I X N O S T A C Z.'

"Can you read this?" the optician asked.

"Read it?" the Polish guy replied, "I know the guy."

Thought for Today

Marriage is a relationship in which one person is always right, and the other is a husband.

Lottery Winner

A woman came home, screeching her car into the driveway, and ran into the house. She slammed the door and shouted at the top of her lungs, "Honey, pack your bags. I won the lottery!"

The husband said, "Oh my God! What should I pack, beach stuff or mountain stuff?"

"Doesn't matter," she said. "Just get the hell out."

An Offer You Can't Refuse

One day, Jay Dini came home and was greeted by his wife dressed in a very sexy nightie.

"Tie me up," she purred, "and you can do anything you want."

So he tied her up and went fishing.

Ceiling in a Smoking Room

ANOTHER USE FOR DUCT TAPE

ANOTHER USE FOR DUCT TAPE

I have to tell you that I have never seen a better use for duct tape in my life.

Makes you want to require everyone carry a role for emergencies.

Duct tape making our world a prettier place to live.

Male Brains

A three-year-old boy was examining his testicles while taking a bath.

"Mom", he asked, "are these my brains?"

"Not yet," she replied.

I DON'T CARE WHO YOU ARE - THAT'S FUNNY!!!!

Facts about Alabama

Did you hear about the $3 million Alabama State Lottery?
The winner gets $3.00 a year for a million years.
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The governor's mansion in Alabama burned down!
Yep. Pert' near took out the whole trailer park. The library was a total loss too. Both books-poof! up in flames and we hadn't even finished coloring one of them.
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A new law was recently passed in Alabama. When a couple gets divorced, they are STILL cousins.
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A guy walks into a bar in Alabama and orders a mudslide.
The bartender looks at the man and says, "You ain't from 'round here are ya?
"No," replies the man, "I'm from Arkansas".
The bartender looks at him and says, "Well, what do ya do in Arkansas?"
"I'm a taxidermist," said the man.
The bartender, looking very bewildered now, asks, "What in the world is a tax-e-derm-ist?
"The man says,"I mount animals".
The bartender stands back and hollers to the whole bar..."It's okay boys, he's one of us!"

A guy from Alabama passed away and left his entire estate to his beloved widow, but she can't touch it 'til she's 14.
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How do you know when you're staying in an Alabama hotel?
When you call the front desk and say, "I gotta leak in my sink," and the clerk replies, "Go ahead."
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How can you tell if a Alabama redneck is married?
There's dried tobacco juice on both sides of his pickup truck.
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Did you hear that they have raised the minimum drinking age in Alabama to 32?
It seems they want to keep alcohol out of the high schools.
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What do they call reruns of "Hee Haw" in Alabama?
Documentaries.
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Where was the toothbrush invented?
Alabama . If it had been invented anywhere else, it would have been called a teeth brush.
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An Alabama State trooper pulls over a pickup on I-65 and says to the driver, "Got any I.D.?" and the driver replies "Bout wut?"

Why Men make better friends than women

Friendship Between Women:
A woman didn't come home one night. The next day she told her husband that she had slept over at a friend's house. The man called his wife's 10 best friends. None of them knew about it.

Friendship Between Men:
A man didn't come home one night. The next day he told his wife that he had slept over at a friend's house. The woman called her Husband's 10 best friends. Eight of them confirmed that he had slept over, and two claimed that he was still there.

The new birds and the bees

A little boy goes to his father and asks, "Daddy, how was I born?"

The father answers, "Well, son, I guess one day you will need to find out anyway."

"Your Mom and I first got together in a chat room on Yahoo.Then I set up a date via e-mail with your Mom and we met at a cyber-cafe.

We sneaked into a secluded room, where your mother agreed to do a download from my hard drive. As soon as I was ready to upload, we discovered that neither one of us had used a firewall, but it was too late to hit the delete button.

Nine months later a Pop-Up appeared and said: "You've Got Male "

New Ideas

The elderly priest, speaking to the younger priest, said, "It was a good idea to replace the first four pews with plush bucket theater seats. It worked like a charm. The front of the church always fills first now."

The young priest nodded, and the old priest continued, "And you told me adding a little more beat to the music would bring young people back to church, so I supported you when you brought in that rock'n'roll gospel choir. Now our services are consistently packed to the balcony."

"Thank you, Father," answered the young priest. "I am pleased that you are open to the new ideas of youth."

"All of these ideas have been well and good," said the elderly priest, "but I'm afraid you've gone too far with the drive-thru confessional."

"But, Father," protested the young priest, "my confessions and the donations have nearly doubled since I began that!"

"Yes," replied the elderly priest, "and I appreciate that. But the flashing neon sign, 'Toot 'n Tell or Go to Hell' cannot stay on the church roof.

Laws for Hunting Attorneys

I have sources that are telling me that Leg Council is currently drafting an important bill for the Special Session. My sources have not seen the entire document but were able to get a segment. I have provided that segment for your review. Hope this is useful for any of your clients or your respective bosses.

Regulations For Hunting Attorneys" SEC. 370.00

370.01 Any person with a valid in state rodent or snake hunting license may also hunt and harvest attorneys for recreational and sport (non commercial) purposes.

370.02 Taking of attorneys with traps or dead falls is permitted. The use of United States currency as bait, however, is prohibited.

370.03 The willful killing of attorneys with a motor vehicle is prohibited, unless such vehicle is an ambulance being driven in reverse. If an attorney is accidentally struck by a motor vehicle, the dead attorney should be removed to the roadside, and the vehicle should proceed immediately to the nearest car wash.

370.04 It is unlawful to chase, herd or harvest attorneys from a power boat, helicopter or aircraft.

370.05 It is unlawful to shout, "WHIPLASH", "AMBULANCE", or "FREE SCOTCH" for the purposes of trapping attorneys.

370.06 It is unlawful to hunt attorneys within 100 yards of BMW, Mercedes or Porsche dealerships, except on Wednesday afternoon.

370.07 It is unlawful to hunt attorneys within 200 yards of courtrooms, law libraries, health clubs, country clubs, hospitals or brothels.

370.08 If an attorney gains elective office, it is not necessary to have a license to hunt, trap or possess the same.

370.09 It is unlawful for a hunter to wear a disguise as a reporter, accident victim, physician, chiropractor or tax accountant for the purpose of hunting attorneys.

370.10 Bag and Possession Limits per day:
Yellow bellied sidewinders, 2
Two faced tortfeasors, 1;
Back stabbing divorce litigators, 3
Horn rimmed cut throats, 2
Minutiae advocating dirtbags, 4
Honest attorneys protected (Endangered Species Act).

370.21 It is illegal to take attorneys with a moving vehicle unless there are no measurable skid marks at the kill site.

Cajun first aid

Boudreaux staggered home very late after another evening with his drinking buddy Thibodeaux. He took off his shoes to avoid waking his wife Clotile. He tiptoed as quietly as he could toward the stairs leading to their upstairs bedroom, but misjudged the bottom step.

As he caught himself by grabbing the banister, his body swung around and he landed heavily on his rump. A whiskey bottle in each back pocket broke and made the landing especially painful.

Managing not to yell, Boudreaux sprung up, pulled down his pants and looked in the hall mirror to see that his butt cheeks were cut and bleeding.

He managed to quietly find a full box of Band-Aids and began putting a Band-Aid as best he could on each place he saw blood. He then hid the now almost empty box and shuffled and stumbled his way to bed.

In the morning, Boudreaux woke up with serious pain in both his head and butt and Clotile staring at him from across the room.

She said, "You were drunk again last night weren't you Boudreaux?"

Boudreaux said, "Mon cher, why you say such a mean ting?"

"Well," Clotile said, "it could be the open front door, it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs, it could be the drops of blood trailing through the house, it could be your bloodshot eyes but mostly.....

it's all those Band-Aids stuck on the downstairs mirror".

Be very very careful what you wish for

A married couple in their early 60s was out celebrating their 35th wedding anniversary in a quiet, romantic little restaurant.

Suddenly, a tiny yet beautiful fairy appeared on their table and said, "For being such an exemplary married couple and for being faithful to each other for all this time, I will grant you each a wish."

"Oh, I want to travel around the world with my darling husband" said the wife. The fairy waved her magic wand and - poof! - two tickets for the Queen Mary II luxury liner appeared in her hands. Then it was the husband's turn.

He thought for a moment and said: "Well, this is all very romantic, but an opportunity like this will never come again. I'm sorry my love, but my wish is to have a wife 30 Years younger than me." The wife and the fairy were deeply disappointed, But a wish is a wish...So the fairy waved her magic wand and - poof! - The husband became 92 years old.

The moral of the story: Men who are ungrateful bastards should remember that fairies are female.

Things to do at Wal-Mart

Things to do at Wal-Mart while your spouse/partner is taking their sweet time:

1. Get 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in peoples carts when they aren't looking.

2. Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.

3. Make a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the rest rooms.

4. Walk up to an employee and tell him/her in an official tone, "Code 3 in housewares" ..... and see what happens.

5. Go to the Service Desk and ask to put a bag of M&M's on layaway.

6. Move a 'CAUTION - WET FLOOR' sign to a carpeted area.

7. Set up a tent in the camping department and tell other shoppers you'll invite them in if they'll bring pillows from the bedding department.

8. When a clerk asks if they can help you, begin to cry and ask 'Why can't you people just leave me alone?'

9. Look right into the security camera; use it as a mirror, and pick your nose.

10. While handling guns in the hunting department, ask the clerk If he knows where the anti- depressants are.

11. Dart around the store suspiciously, loudly humming the "Mission Impossible" theme.

12. In the auto department, practice your "Madonna look" using different size funnels.

13. Hide in a clothing rack and when people browse through, say "PICK ME!"

14. When an announcement comes over the loud speaker, assume the fetal position and scream "NO! NO! It's those voices again!!!!"

( And; last, but not least!)

15. Go ! into a fitting room and shut the door and wait a while, and then, yell, very loudly, "There is no toilet paper in here!"

Sons

Four friends, who hadn't seen each other in 30 years, reunited at a party.

After several drinks, one of the men had to use the rest room. Those who remained talked about their kids.

The first guy said, "My son is my pride and joy. He started working at a successful company at the bottom of the barrel. He studied Economics and Business Administration and soon began to climb the corporate ladder and now he's the president of the company. He became so rich that he gave his best friend a top of the line Mercedes for his birthday."

The second guy said, "Darn, that's terrific! My son is also my pride and joy. He started working for a big airline, and then went to flight school to become a pilot. Eventually he became a partner in the company, where he owns the majority of its assets. He's so rich that he gave his best friend a brand new jet for his birthday."

The third man said: "Well, that's terrific! My son studied in the best universities and became an engineer. Then he started his own construction company and is now a multimillionaire. He also gave away something very nice and expensive to his best friend for his birthday: A 30,000 square foot mansion."

The three friends congratulated each other just as the fourth returned from the restroom and asked: "What are all the congratulations for?" One of the three said: "We were talking about the pride we feel for the successes of our sons. ...What about your son?"

The fourth man replied: "My son is gay and makes a living dancing as a stripper at a nightclub."

The three friends said: "What a shame...what a disappointment."

The fourth man replied: "No, I'm not ashamed. He's my son and I love him. And he hasn't done too bad either. His birthday was two weeks ago, and he received a beautiful 30,000 square foot mansion, a brand new jet and a top of the line Mercedes from his three boyfriends."

A great story about a very American pastime: doing stupid stuff

About 2 weeks ago, I was looking around the Web for the BIGGEST sky rocket that I could get shipped to me via common freight carrier. I located a fireworks importer in Wisconsin who had this mondo sky rocket--biggest thing I had ever seen--called a SkyDragon. These things are 48 inches tall and are mounted on a 1/2-inch wooden dowel. Pure aerospace engineering.

I plopped down a bunch of money and had them send me two cases of these things. They arrived at the freight dock a few days ago and I had to drive the van over to pick them up. Two boxes each 2 feet by 2 feet by 4 feet in six containing 80 rockets each. The 'Class 4 Explosives' sticker on the side of each box was a real bonus. I am gonna have to save them for the scrapbook.

That night, me and the kiddos had a gen-u-ine rocket launch ceremony. I placed one of these beauties in a liter-size glass bottle and the bottle fell over. Hmmmm- this thing was waaay to big. I looked around the shop for a pipe to set it in, but realized that the only dirt I could drive the pipe into was in plain sight of my neighbor's house. I knew he was a cool guy, but I didn't want him to call the cops. You see- 'projectile-type' fireworks are totally illegal in this county. I was surprised that the Buncombe County Sheriff Department wasn't waiting for me at the loading dock when I picked these things up. Anyhow, I finally rigged a launch pad by prying up one of the driveway drain grates with a crowbar and sitting the stick into the deep pit. Looked sorta like an ICBM silo with its hardened lid slid aside. I asked which of my three kids wanted to light the fuse, but all took a few steps back and politely declined.

Those Chickens.

Kids just aren't made the same nowadays. They fulfill their danger quotient by shooting bad guys in video games. About as far from real danger as you can get, if you ask me.

I told the little weenies to stand back as I bent to light the device with a Bic lighter. The lady at the fireworks importer promised me that these things would NOT make any noise. I told her that they HAD to be relatively quiet so I could shoot them off in my neighborhood without causing 'undue alarm'. She said I wouldn't have any problem. I emphasized the particular legal problems I would have if there were any type of loud report at apogee. I emphasized the fact that I lived right next to a National Park and that any type of fireworks that was discharged or assumed to be discharged on that property would get me sent before a FEDERAL judge right before I got sent to the COUNTY judge. She again assured me I would have no problem.

That liar.

That rocket engine had a burn time about as long as any I had EVER seen, and the ascent echoed off the surrounding trees. Diamond shock pattern extended from the back end. It kept going and going and going. When it hit apogee at about 1000 feet, the rocket disintegrated into a huge shower of silent red sparks. Pretty cool, I thought......until the shower of sparks burned out and suddenly transformed into a cloud of extremely bright and loud explosions. The kids scrambled into the back door 'Three Stooges' style (ie: where all three try to get through the same closed door at once) and left me standing in the smoking haze waiting for the cops to arrive. The dogs that live along our street were all barking their heads off at the apparition they had just witnessed in the night sky. That ended the fireworks test for the night.

The next day, my oldest son Doug and I decided we were gonna 'neuter' one of the rockets so it wouldn't make any noise. I took him into the closet where I store the gardening tools and he saw these two huge cases of fireworks standing there. The kid went nuts. He wanted to open BOTH boxes so he could see what all 159 rockets looked like lined up next to each other. This kid has promise. I told him: "Since mom only thinks I have a few of these things lying around, maybe that wasn't such a good idea." He mulled that over for a few seconds, then gave me a real big smile in agreement.

We pulled one of the rockets out of the box and re-locked the closet door. He and I both sat down on the driveway and proceeded to take it apart. It was a standard issue big Chinese sky rocket. I bet they used these to kill people 500 years ago. As I sat there taking layer after layer of paper off, his brain was filling with the details of construction. Tissue, cardboard, plastic, fuses...etc. Realizing that he was mentally storing the design for some future project sorta made me shudder. All I was thinking was the fact that this thing was probably put together by a political prisoner in a hellhole somewhere who is probably gonna get 'executed' so they can sell his internal organs on the transplant market.

Probably not too far from the facts, but I managed to do a bit of explaining to him from the standpoint of aerospace engineering regarding how the thing worked. Doug is probably the only 4th grader in the U.S. who can now describe the principle of thrust using a control volume model.

The rocket was pretty simple. It had a very large booster engine topped with a warhead that contained the red sparkly things that exploded. Removing the warhead was as simple as giving a quick twist and I assumed the neutered rocket would fly higher without the payload. I was correct. Doug and I did a daylight 'stealth' test and were able to add about 50% to the altitude attained the previous night. We decided to modify four more rockets and put them aside in the closet for easy access. When this was done, Doug had a jar full of stuff that came out of the warheads including: 12 fuses about 3-inches long each, some paper, 4 plastic nose cones and a big handful of these little black balls about the size of 12-gauge buckshot that turned out to be the 'red sparkly popper things'. It appeared that the outer layer was a simple gunpowder coating designed to quickly burn off as red shower of sparks. I surmised that the inner core had some kind of magnesium thermite that gave off an intense white light and a loud bang. Pretty cool if you ask me. Lots of energy packed into one teeny little ball.

I didn't want to see the popper thingies go to waste, so I told Doug we were gonna put them in a hole in the ground and set them off. He gave me another big smile. It's amazing how kids think alike...even when separated by 30 years. As I was digging a shallow hole with my hand, Doug asked if it would be all right to put an army man next to these things so that "When they go off, it would look like he was getting shot with a machine gun".

Dang....exactly what I was thinking. This kid is definitely showing a lot of promise. I agreed and he ran off to his room to dig something out of the mess. He returned in about 3 seconds, out of breath and holding a cheap plastic imitation of Ulysses S. Grant on horseback and a Civil War cannon. I pointed out that they didn't have true machine guns in the Civil War, but we would overlook this for the purpose of the demonstration. He handed me the action figure and I placed it and the cannon next to a rather large pile of black beads from which a few of the fuses extended.

I figured that three inches of fuse would take 2 seconds to burn, so I had at least that amount of time to stand up and take a few steps back. I neglected to recount the night before.....when the warhead ignited IMMEDIATELY upon reaching apogee. Tricky. They had installed extremely fast-burning fuse in these things and that fact totally escaped me. I squatted next to U.S. Grant and gave a short eulogy. Doug laughed.

I took the trusty Bic lighter and placed it next to the fuse. One flick got the lighter going and THIS IMAGE IS ONE I WILL REMEMBER FOR A LONG TIME. My hand holding a lighter next to a pile of explosives.

There is usually a short but noticeable mental pause that occurs immediately before something bad or really stupid happens. It is where that little voice in your head says: "You dummy." The fuse burn time was in the 1/1000ths of a second range. The pile of little popper thingy’s immediately ignited into a tremendously brilliant ball of fire. All I could think was ..."...th....th.....thermite..." Unfortunately, when they are viewed at ground level, these little popper thingies become REALLY BIG POPPER THINGIES and have a tendency to jump up to 15-feet in every direction from their point of ignition. I instantaneously became engulfed in a ball of fire that sounded a lot like being in a half-done bag of Orville Reddenbacher's popcorn.

It was all over about as fast as I could can snap my finger. After the smoke cleared, Doug started laughing his butt off. That meant I was still in one piece. Doug does not laugh at dismembered limbs. He said I jumped about 10-feet, an action that I do not remember. I checked my clothes for burn marks, and found none. He checked my back to make sure it was not on fire. No combustion there. The driveway was peppered with black holes where the concrete had been scarred from these things.

A close one. Another REAL close one. My mind ran the tapes again to re-hash what it had seen. All I remembered was being inside something akin to a 30-foot diameter........flaming dandelion. Whew. We examined Ol' Ulysses S. Grant at ground-zero. Instead of a machine-gun peppering, he got nuked. He and the horse he rode in on.......and his cannon too. One side was untouched, but the other side was arc-welded. Real warfare. Doug examined it real quiet-like and then started laughing again.

I assume he will remember the finer points of the lesson as he grows older. When I now speak of 'almost being burned beyond recognition' he will have a slightly better understanding of what I mean. I hope that this vivid image tempers the knowledge he now has regarding rocket construction. Oh well. After all, if your own dad ain't gonna teach you how to get your butt blown off, who will?

Holiday Ho-Ho's

Click any of 'em to make them bigger.

Old Men

The old farmer had a large pond in the back, fixed up nicely; picnic tables, barbecue pit, horseshoe courts, along with some apple and peach trees. The pond was properly shaped and fixed up for swimming when it was built.

One evening, the old boy decided to go down to the pond and look it over. He hadn't been there for a while. He grabbed a five gallon bucket to bring back some fruit.

As he neared the pond, he heard voices shouting and laughing with glee. As he came closer, he saw it was a bunch of young women skinny dipping in his pond. As he approached, he made the women aware of his presence. At once, they all went to the deep end.

One of the women shouted to him, "We're not coming out until you leave." The old man frowned, "I did not come down here to watch you young ladies swim naked, or to make you get out of the pond naked."

Holding up the bucket, he said, "I'm just here to feed the alligator."

Moral: Old men can still think fast.

Click on the Picture

Santa's Coming to Town - RUN!!

Photos submitted to a Chicago newspaper showing the joys of visiting Santa. Click here to view.

Winter Holiday

SCUBA

If you don't laugh out loud after you read this you are in a coma! This is even funnier when you realize it's real! Next time you have a bad day at work...think of this guy...

Rob is a commercial saturation diver for Global Divers in Louisiana. He performs underwater repairs on offshore drilling rigs. Below is an
E-mail he sent to his sister.

Hi Sue,
Just another note from your bottom-dwelling brother. Last week I had a bad day at the office. I know you've been feeling down lately at work, so I thought I would share my dilemma with you to make you realize it's not so bad after all. Before I can tell you what happened to me, I first must bore you with a few technicalities of my job.

As you know, my office lies at the bottom of the sea. I wear a suit to the office. It's a wetsuit. This time of year the water is quite cool.

So what we do to keep warm is this: We have a diesel powered industrial water heater. This $20,000 piece of equipment sucks the water out of the sea. It heats it to a delightful temperature. It then pumps it down to the diver through a garden hose, which is taped to the air hose. Now this sounds like a darn good plan, and I've used it several times with no complaints.

What I do, when I get to the bottom and start working, is take the hose and stuff it down the back of my wetsuit. This floods my whole suit with warm water. It's like working in a Jacuzzi.

Everything was going well until all of a sudden, my butt started to itch. So, of course, I scratched it. This only made things worse.

Within a few seconds my butt started to burn. I pulled the hose out from my back, but the damage was done. In agony I realized what had happened. The hot water machine had sucked up a jellyfish and pumped it into my suit.

Now, since I don't have any hair on my back, the jellyfish couldn't stick to it. However, the crack of my butt was not as fortunate.

When I scratched what I thought was an itch, I was actually grinding the jellyfish into the crack of my butt. I informed the dive supervisor of my dilemma over the communicator. His instructions were unclear due to the fact that he, along with five other divers, were all laughing hysterically.

Needless to say I aborted the dive. I was instructed to make three agonizing in-water decompression stops totaling thirty-five minutes before I could reach the surface to begin my chamber dry decompression. When I arrived at the surface, I was wearing nothing but my brass helmet. As I climbed out of the water, the medic, with tears of laughter running down his face, handed me a tube of cream and told me to rub it on my butt as soon as I got in the chamber. The cream put the fire out, but I couldn't poop for two days because my butt was swollen shut.

So, next time you're having a bad day at work, think about how much worse it would be if you had a jellyfish shoved up your butt.

Now repeat to yourself, "I love my job, I love my job, I love my job."

The Irony of the Rat Race

A boat docked in a tiny Mexican village. An American tourist complimented the Mexican fisherman on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took him to catch them.

“Not very long,” answered the fisherman.

“But then, why didn’t you stay out longer and catch more?” asked the tourist.

The fisherman explained that his small catch was sufficient to meet his needs and those of his family.

The tourist asked, “But what do you do with the rest of your time?”

“I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, and take a siesta with my wife. In the evenings, I go into the village and see my friends, have a few drinks, play the guitar, and sing a few songs…. I have a full life.”

The tourist interrupted, “I have an MBA from Harvard and I can help you! You should start by fishing longer every day. You can then sell the extra fish you catch. With the extra revenue, you can buy a bigger boat. With the extra money the larger boat will bring, you can buy a second one and a third one and so on until you have an entire fleet of trawlers, instead of selling your fish to a middleman, you can negotiate directly with the processing plants and maybe even open you own plant. You can then leave this little village and move to Mexico City, Los Angeles, or even New York City! From there you can direct you huge enterprise.”

“How long would that take?” asked the fisherman?

“Twenty, perhaps twenty-five years,” replied the tourist.

“And after that?”

“Afterwards? That’s when it gets really interesting,” answered the tourist laughing. “When your business gets really big, you can start selling stocks and make millions!”

“Millions? Really? And after that?”

“After that you’ll be able to retire, live in a tiny village near the coast, sleep late, play with your children, catch a few fish, take a siesta, and spend your evenings drinking and enjoying your friends.

A First Person Taser Experience

Last weekend I spied something at the pawnshop that tickled my fancy.
(Note: Keep in mind that my "fancy" is easily tickled).

I bought something really cool for my wife. 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 Taser 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 AAA 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. However I soon 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. Awesome! Sparks, a blue arch of electricity, and a loud pop! Yipeeeeee!

I'm easily amused, just for your information, but I have yet to explain to my wife what that burn spot on the face of her microwave is.

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two AAA batteries, etc. etc. There I sat in my recliner, my dog looking on intently (trusting little soul), reading the directions (that would be me, not the dog) and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood target. I must admit I thought about zapping the dog for a fraction of a second and thought better of it. He is such a sweet pup, after all. 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? Was I wrong to think that? It seemed reasonable to me at the time.

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, Taser in the other. 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 AAA 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. I'm sitting there alone, the dog looking on with his head cocked to one side as to say, "Don't do it buddy," 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 20-20. 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 just 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, and 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. The dog was standing over me making sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to himself, "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'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 into your thigh like yours truly.)

SON-OF-A-***** that hurt! A minute or 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 glasses were on the TV across the room. How did they 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. give or take an ounce or two, I'm pretty sure.

The worst part was confessing this to my wife. She wasn't sympathetic at all.