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Last weekend I was at Larry's Pistol & Pawn looking for a little something special for my wife, Renee. I came across a 100,000-volt pocket taser. Its disabling effect on an assailant was described as short-lived, with no long-term consequences, but would allow my wife--who would never consider a gun--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 and pushed the button. Nothing! I was disappointed, but then I read (yes, I read the instructions) that if I pressed the taser against a metal surface and pushed the button at the same time, I'd see a blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs, to verify that it was working.

Awesome!!!

I have yet to explain to Renee that new burn spot on the face of her microwave.

There 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? I sat there in my recliner, reading the directions, my cat Gracie looking on intently. Trusting little soul. I got to thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood moving target. I admit I thought about zapping Gracie for a fraction of a second. She is such a sweet cat, but if I was going to give this device 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 shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another. The directions said a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant, a two-second burst would 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. A burst longer than three seconds would be a waste of batteries.

I'm sitting there alone, with Gracie looking on, her head cocked to one side as if to say, 'Don't do it.' But I was reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny little 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 DESTRUCTION!

Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up from my recliner, and body slammed us both onto 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, tingling legs, nipples on fire, and testicles nowhere to be found.

SON-OF-A... That Hurt Like HELL!

If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself with a taser, you should know that there is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself. You will not let go of that taser until it is dislodged from your hand by your involuntary violent thrashing about on the floor.

A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was relative at that point) I collected what wits I had left, sat up, and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they get there? My triceps, right thigh, and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it was shot up with Novocaine. My bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. And I'm still looking for my testicles!!

I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return.

(January 2008, Pennsylvania) A 23-year-old man with various body piercings wondered what it would feel like to connect his workplace test equipment to his chest piercings. Several co-workers tried to convince him that it was a bad idea to wire himself up to the electronic control tester, but he ignored their pleas.

He proceeded to connect two alligator clips to his piercings and hit the test button...

When the police and rescue personnel arrived, his co-workers were stiill trying to revive him with CPR and rescue breathing. They were not successful.

Late one night, Eduard entered the apartment of a 30-year-old handicapped man, who slept peacefully as Eduard quietly cleaned out the valuables. Eduard was preparing to leave when suddenly the man woke up.

"I couldn't believe my eyes! The dark shape of some goon was standing next to my nightstand!" recalls the burglary victim. "I cried out and he attacked me, who was defenseless, with his fists! I had no choice. I hit him between the legs with my crutch, and he leapt out the window. Thank God I live on the first floor, and he did not die from the fall.

"I didn't understand at first what had fallen out of his pants. When I looked closer, I realized that it was a testicle, a man's testicle! I put it in cold water, and rushed to the phone." The handicapped man dialed the emergency services several times, but "the doctors hung up on me when I told them I had ripped a burglar's balls off!"

Half an hour later, the blood-covered thief was found by a passerby, who called the police. "An unconscious man was lying on the sidewalk," said the police investigator. "When the medics revived him, he started screaming hysterically, 'Give me back my balls!'"

Eduard's genitals were so traumatized that doctors had to amputate the entire scrotum to prevent gangrene. In the hospital, the burglar filed a complaint against his victim. He said, "I will never forgive him!"