Saturday's Email of the Week: Almost Wet Myself Laughing

Ok, I have read this before, but I was seriously howling when I read this one. It came from my uncle, who is trying to push himself through a painful anniversary this week. Obviously someone else felt that he needed a laugh too.

Enjoy!

ONLY A MAN WOULD ATTEMPT THIS

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 AAA 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 then 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, 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; and 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 (loaded with two itsy, bitsy AAA batteries); pretty cute really, and 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 so as to say, 'Don't do it stupid,' reasoning that a one second burst from such a tiny lil 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... !!! I'm pretty sure Hulk Hogan 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 meowing 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! 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 had crapped in my shorts, 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 testicles and I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return! PS: 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!!!!

Turning Lager into Water

As I sat interpreting the life of this man and his son, I sipped on the cold beer that I had just purchased at the dilapidated stand in what posed as a village square. A beautiful old hotel was the backdrop for my setting, but it had been abandoned long ago. It seemed just like so many other  aspects of Mozambique. All forgotten to the world.

The cold amber liquid poured down my hot throat, quenching the fire that simmered there. The beer was a luxury that I had allowed myself on this scorching day, as we lazed beside the ocean. I sipped at it, then returned to the writing in my journal. A shadow fell across the beach in front of me and I looked up to spy the man that was gracing the pages of my writing again. He had returned from delivering the fish we had offered him home. Now his gestures told me of another want. He had a thirst as well. I handed him the bottle expecting him to take a long pull at the contents. I was mistaken.

I sat up, perturbed at his retreating figure. He had walked away! He had taken my almost full beer and departed.   I had been willing to share, but still wanted more of the lager that had only begun to quench my thirst. With a sigh, I acquiesced that perhaps it was a luxury that he needed more. Something that he did not often get a chance to afford or enjoy. I chalked it down to a lesson learned that in this land, perhaps when you gave something to someone they kept it until they have had enough, then they too pass it on. Different lands hold different cultures.

Before I had a chance to think much beyond the incidence that had just occurred, I spied the man coming back again. To my surprise and delight, he carried with him a pail of water. It was a pail of fresh, clean drinkable water. He was returning the favor that I had offered to him, unbeknownst to myself. One good turn deserves another. As we were not camping in anything akin to a formal campground, we had to walk down to the village square to get our water at a communal tap like anyone else. It was a good sized walk and alien activity to our foreign ways. This man’s gift of water was worth much more than the humble beer that I had shared with him. My soul was uplifted by his simple act of sharing and kindness that I had not expected. I felt small in his presence of generousity, but awed by the beauty of it. Here was a spirit of sharing and community. Items were freely shared amongst the people and it was an understood thing amongst everyone. The beauty of Mozambique lifted to the top of my destinations in this simple, yet unforgettable moment. I was in love.

Mystery Visitor

Hmmm, a mystery visitor...

I went away,

but for an hour

While gone to foray

for canning power.

Upon return I

looked down to see

that someone had been

to visit me.

Settled on

my little chair

sat a bag 

to cool my fare.

with plates and forks,

napkins and knives.

Even some Vex

for party to en-live.

Alas, no note;

No scribbled scribe

for me to know

whose thanks I describe.

So cheers to you

my mystery friend

A picnicing we'll go and

your presence heart lend.

thank you stranger

Loving Kindness

I suppose that some day my sensitive edge will be worn down a little. I am not always sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Sad movies, sensitive comments and poignant recollections can all bring me to tears or at least the brink of. I think that is just who I am.

Today I was praised for my efforts to help another soul at a time when they have need. I am doing some gardening for a woman who is dying of lymphoma. I reflected on where this woman and her husband are in their life and how it felt when I was there (tears in memory and the back of my throat). Nothing can change where she is, but sometimes kindnesses can make it better. I have been shown kindnesses from extraordinary and surprising people. Giving to Michelle in some ways is giving back to me. While in my weekly yoga class, I was reminded to be kind to myself, as well as others in our world. While a general thought put out there in class, I felt like it could have been directed solely at myself. I have a hard time being kind to myself, but am trying to work on that. First step is recognition that I am harder on myself than I deserve.

I was also touched by an old friend's step out of her comfort bounds (feeling like it had a teensy wee bit to do with me). Life hands everyone challenges. I do not have the hardest or saddest story out there. We all have our stories to tell and crosses to bear. Do I truly know this? For a long time after Brad died, I honestly did not care about other people's miseries and trials. I have been told that is typical of grief and normal. In beating myself up and challenging my confidences, am I just fooling myself that I have that saddest, worst story to tell? Poor me? I want to let it go, but that is the cross I have chosen to bear at present. If others can see my worthiness and strengths, perhaps some day the shackles of my biggest enemy, mine own self, will fall off and be set free. Perhaps I do not need to share these deepest darkest demons, but I know we all have our demons. I believe that speaking them and exposing them takes some of their ultimate power away. At least that is a hope and faith that I carry.