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JPLiz
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Post subject: Posted: Fri Jul 18, 2008 7:28 pm |
| Crunching Room Commander |
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Joined: Thu May 17, 2007 1:20 pm Posts: 954 Location: Moncton NB
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Let me know what you think. Dont cry like I did. lol
Pocket Taser Stun Gun (hysterical!)
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 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 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 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 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, 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 dipsh#t,' 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 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 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-B#TCH, THAT 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 sh#t 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 loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it!
'If you think Education is difficult, try being stupid.'
_________________ [/url]

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Sirius B
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Post subject: Posted: Sat Jul 19, 2008 1:48 am |
Joined: Sat Aug 25, 2007 1:44 am Posts: 1369 Location: Peterborough, UK
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Flight
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Post subject: Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2008 4:09 am |
| A Muskokan State of Mind |
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Joined: Mon May 21, 2007 4:43 am Posts: 139 Location: The Muskoka's
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An Ontarian wanted to become a Newfie. He went to the neurosurgeon and asked, "Is there anything you can do to me that would make me into a Newfie?"
"Sure it's easy." replied the neurosurgeon. "All I have to do is cut out 1/3 of your brain, and you'll be a Newfie.."
He was very pleased, and immediately underwent the operation. However, the neurosurgeon's knife slipped, and instead of cutting 1/3 of the patient's brain, the surgeon accidentally cut out 2/3 of the patient's brain.
He was terribly remorseful, and waited impatiently beside the patient's bed as the patient recovered from the anesthetic. As soon as the patient was conscious, the neurosurgeon said to him "I'm terribly sorry, but there was a ghastly accident. Instead of cutting out 1/3 of your brain, I accidentally cut out 2/3 of your brain."
The patient replied "Qu'est-ce que vous avez dit, monsieur?"
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Flight
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Post subject: Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2008 4:12 am |
| A Muskokan State of Mind |
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Joined: Mon May 21, 2007 4:43 am Posts: 139 Location: The Muskoka's
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After the North American Beer Festival, all the brewery presidents decided to go out for a beer. The guy from Corona sits down and says, "Hey Senor, I would like the world's best beer, a Corona ." The bartender dusts off a bottle from the shelf and gives it to him.
The guy from Budweiser says, "I'd like the best beer in the world, give me 'The King Of Beers', a Budweiser." The bartender gives him one..
The guy from Coors says, "I'd like the only beer made with Rocky Mountain spring water, give me a Coors." He gets it.
The guy from Molson Canadian sits down and says, "Give me a Coke." The bartender is a little taken aback, but gives him what he ordered.
The other brewery presidents look over at him and ask, "Why aren't you drinking a Molson's?"
The Molson Canadian president replies, "Well, I figured if you guys aren't drinking beer, neither would I."
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timmygadget
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Post subject: Posted: Tue Aug 12, 2008 10:15 am |
| Irish Francophone |
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Joined: Thu May 24, 2007 1:21 am Posts: 299 Location: Athy, Co. Kildare, Ireland
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Flight wrote: An Ontarian wanted to become a Newfie. He went to the neurosurgeon and asked, "Is there anything you can do to me that would make me into a Newfie?"
"Sure it's easy." replied the neurosurgeon. "All I have to do is cut out 1/3 of your brain, and you'll be a Newfie.."
He was very pleased, and immediately underwent the operation. However, the neurosurgeon's knife slipped, and instead of cutting 1/3 of the patient's brain, the surgeon accidentally cut out 2/3 of the patient's brain.
He was terribly remorseful, and waited impatiently beside the patient's bed as the patient recovered from the anesthetic. As soon as the patient was conscious, the neurosurgeon said to him "I'm terribly sorry, but there was a ghastly accident. Instead of cutting out 1/3 of your brain, I accidentally cut out 2/3 of your brain."
The patient replied "Qu'est-ce que vous avez dit, monsieur?"
Ah mon dieu lol
_________________ http://timmygadget.blogspot.com/
[flash width=390 height=70]http://i162.photobucket.com/albums/t253/renato999/timmy1.swf[/flash]
Ná feic a bhfeicir, Is ná clois a gcloisir, Is má fiafraítear díot, Abair ná feadrais
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JPLiz
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Post subject: Posted: Wed Nov 05, 2008 6:16 pm |
| Crunching Room Commander |
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Joined: Thu May 17, 2007 1:20 pm Posts: 954 Location: Moncton NB
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Prime Minister Stephen Harper was visiting a primary school and he visited one of the classes.
They were in the middle of a discussion related to words and their meanings.
The teacher asked the PM if he would like to lead the discussion on the word 'tragedy'. So the illustrious leader asked the class for an example of a 'tragedy'.
One little boy stood up and offered: 'If my best friend, who lives on a farm, is playing in the field and a tractor runs over him and kills him, that would be a tragedy.'
'No,' said Harper, 'that would be an accident.'
A little girl raised her hand: 'If a school bus carrying 50 children drove over a cliff, killing everyone inside, that would be a tragedy.'
'I'm afraid not,' explained Harper.
'That's what we would call great loss.'
The room went silent. No other children volunteered.
Harper searched the room.
'Isn't there someone here who can give
me an example of a tragedy?'
Finally at the back of the room, Little Johnny raised his hand...
In a quiet voice he said: 'If the plane carrying you and Mrs. Harper was struck by a 'friendly fire' missile and
blown to smithereens, that would be a tragedy.'
'Fantastic!' exclaimed Harper.'That's right.
And can you tell me why that would be tragedy?'
'Well,' says the boy, 'It has to be a tragedy, because it certainly wouldn't be a great loss. .
and it probably wouldn't be a fucking accident either'.
_________________ [/url]

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Sirius B
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Post subject: Posted: Fri Nov 07, 2008 12:44 am |
Joined: Sat Aug 25, 2007 1:44 am Posts: 1369 Location: Peterborough, UK
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cesium_133
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Post subject: Lotto Winner... Posted: Tue Dec 02, 2008 8:27 am |
Joined: Tue Dec 02, 2008 12:17 am Posts: 14 Location: Charlotte, NC
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A guy in a rather miserable marriage hits the Powerball Lotto for US$125,000,000. After collecting his check, he runs home to tell his wife...
"Hey, Mildred, I hit the jackpot! Pack up your stuff, get your suitcase and get packed!"
"Oh, wonderful, George! Where are we going?"
"WE ain't going nowhere, you old hag. Picked me up a 21-year-old Hooter girl on the way home, and she and I are going to Tahiti. YOU'RE going anywhere but here, so burn the road up!"
_________________ The lovely and highly foxy lady in the pic is Hayley Westenra, a classical crossover singer (my favourite) from Christchurch, New Zealand.
Running AI Sys; Boincsimap; Cels@Home; Climate Prediction; Docking@Home; Geneticlife@Home; Poem@Home; Rosetta; and Spinhenge. I WILL make a difference...
AuthenticAMD - AMD Turion(tm) 64 X2 Mobile Technology TL-60 [x86 Family 15 Model 104 Stepping 2]- Micro$oft Vista
<img src='http://allprojectstats.com/su1650720n25--1-0.png'>
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Sirius B
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Post subject: Posted: Tue Mar 03, 2009 8:14 pm |
Joined: Sat Aug 25, 2007 1:44 am Posts: 1369 Location: Peterborough, UK
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Husband Store
A store that sells new husbands has opened in New York City, where a woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions, at the entrance is a description of how the store operates:
You may visit this store ONLY ONCE! There are six floors and the value of the products increase as the shopper ascends the flights.
The shopper may choose any item from a particular floor, or may choose to go up to the next floor, but you cannot go back down except to exit
the building!
So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband.
On the first floor the sign on the door reads:
Floor 1 - These men Have Jobs
She is intrigued, but continues to the second floor, where the sign reads:
Floor 2 - These men Have Jobs and Love Kids.
'That's nice,' she thinks, 'but I want more.'
So she continues upward. The third floor sign reads:
Floor 3 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, and are extremely good looking.
'Wow,' she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going.
She goes to the fourth floor and the sign reads:
Floor 4 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead good Looking and help with Housework.
'Oh, mercy me!' she exclaims, 'I can hardly stand it!'
Still, she goes to the fifth floor and the sign reads:
Floor 5 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead gorgeous, help with Housework, and have a strong romantic streak.
She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor, where the sign reads:
Floor 6 - You are visitor 31,456,012 to this floor.
There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please. Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store.
PLEASE NOTE:
To avoid gender bias charges, the store's owner opened a New Wives store just across the street.
The first floor has wives that love sex.
The second floor has wives that love sex and have money and like beer.
The third, fourth, fifth and sixth floors have never been visited.
_________________

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