We have the standard 6 ft. fence around the backyard, and a few months ago, I heard about burglaries increasing dramatically in the entire city. To make sure this never happened to me, I got an electric fence and ran a single wire along the top of the fence.
Actually, I got the biggest cattle charger Tractor Supply had, made for 26 miles of fence. I then used an 8 ft. long ground rod, and drove it 7.5 ft. into the ground. The ground rod is the key, with the more you have in the ground, the better the fence works..
One day I’m mowing the back yard with my cheapo Walmart 6 hp big wheel push mower. The hot wire is broken and laying out in the yard. I knew for a fact that I unplugged the charger. I pushed the mower around the wire and reached down to grab it, to throw it out of the way.
It seems as though I hadn’t remembered to unplug it after all.
Now I’m standing there, I’ve got the running lawnmower in my right hand and the 1.7 giga-volt fence wire in the other hand. Keep in mind the charger is about the size of a marine battery and has a picture of an upside down cow on fire on the cover.
Time stood still.
The first thing I notice is my pecker trying to climb up the front side of my body. My ears curled downwards and I could feel the lawnmower ignition firing in the backside of my brain. Every time that Briggs & Stratton rolled over, I could feel the spark in my head. I was literally at one with the engine.
It seems as though the fence charger and the piece of shit lawnmower were fighting over who would control my electrical impulses.
Science says you cannot crap, pee, and vomit at the same time. I beg to differ. Not only did I do all three at once, but my bowels emptied 3 different times in less than half of a second. It was a Matrix kind of bowel movement, where time is creeping along and you’re all leaned back and BAM BAM BAM you just crap your pants 3 times. It seemed like there were minutes in between but in reality it was so close together. It was like exhaust pulses from a big block Chevy turning 8 grand.
At this point I’m about 30 minutes (maybe 2 seconds) into holding onto the fence wire. My hand is wrapped around the wire palm down so I can’t let go. I grew up on a farm so I know all about electric fences. But Dad always had those piece of shit chargers made by International or whoever that were like 9 volts and just kinda tickled.
This one I could not let go of. The 8 ft. long ground rod is now accepting signals from me through the permadamp Ark-La-Tex river bottom soil. At this point I’m thinking I’m going to have to just man up and take it, until the lawnmower runs out of gas.
‘Damn!,’ I think, as I remember I just filled the tank!
Now the lawnmower is starting to run rough. It has settled into a loping run pattern as if it had some kind of big lawnmower race cam in it. Covered in poop, pee, and with my vomit on my chest, I think ‘Oh God please die... Pleeeeaze die’. But nooooo, it settles into the rough lumpy cam idle nicely and remains there, like a big bore roller cam EFI motor waiting for the go command from its owner’s right foot.
So here I am in the middle of July, 104 degrees, 80% humidity, standing in my own backyard, begging God to kill me. God did not take me that day. He left me there covered in my own fluids to writhe in the misery my own stupidity had created.
I honestly don’t know how I got loose from the wire.
I woke up laying on the ground hours later. The lawnmower was beside me, out of gas. It was later on in the day and I was sunburned.
There were two large dead grass spots where I had been standing, and then another long skinny dead spot where the wire had laid while I was on the ground still holding on to it. I assume I finally had a seizure and in the resulting thrashing had somehow let go of the wire..
Upon waking from my electrically induced sleep I realized a few things:
1 - Three of the fillings in my teeth have melted.
2 - I now have cramps in the bottoms of my feet and my right butt cheek (not the left, just the right).
3 - Poop, pee, and vomit when all mixed together, do not smell as bad as you might think.
4 - My left eye will not open.
5 - My right eye will not close.
6 - The lawnmower runs like a sumbitch now. Seriously! I think our little session cleared out some carbon fouling or something, because it was better than new after that.
7 - My testicles are still smaller than average yet they are almost a foot long.
8 - I can turn on the TV in the game room by farting while thinking of the number 4 (still don’t understand this!!!).
That day changed my life. I now have a new found respect for things. I appreciate the little things more, and now I always triple check to make sure the fence is unplugged before I mow.
The good news, is that if a burglar does try to come over the fence, I can clearly visualize what my security system will do to him, and THAT gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling all over, which also reminds me to triple check before I mow.
Top ten...a first!
After all that it was time to find your wife and give her a great big bear hug.
In the Navy, I was working on a Radar console, after turning it off AND TAGGING IT! Some brainchild decided to turn on the power, and my screwdriver hit 23000V- DC. Even with the low amperage, it kicked me across the room, slamming into another bank of equipment. I'll never forget the ringing in my brain (forget ears!!!) and weirdness in my body.
(Do your testicles still hang into the toilet water?)
Yes, you appear to have some control over electricity, but I have control over people. You can fart and turn on a tv, but I can fart and make people get up and leave the room!
Your experience with electrical fence wire was quite vivid. I applaud you for making me lmfao.
Your fence story reminded me of a true news story from here in Norfolk, VA last week.
Seems this guy was arrested for growing pot in his backyard. How did he get caught?
The plants grew over his 8 foot high privacy fence. The neighbors saw them and called the police.
Idiot should have kept his bushes trimmed.
You're the same guy that wrote this...
>>>>>>>>>>Nothing thrills me like seeing someone go down by taser. Their screams for mercy and convulsions are a hoot.
Then you will be laughiing your A$$ off over this...
My wife, Gretchen, is fond of saying that my last words on this earth will be something akin to, “hey y’all, hold my beer and watch this!” Well, I have outdone myself once again. No doubt you will see this true story chronicled in a LifeTime movie in the near future. Here goes.
Last weekend I spied something at Larry’s Pistol and Pawn that tickled my fancy. (Note: Keep in mind that my “fancy” is easily tickled). I bought something really cool for Gretchen. The occasion was our 14th 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 triple-a 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. I 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. I did so. 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 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, etc., etc. There I sat in my recliner, my dog , Moscow, looking on intently (trusting little soul), reading the directions (that would be me, not Moscow) and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood target. I must admit I thought about zapping Moscow for a fraction of a second and thought better of it. She is such a sweet dog, after all. But, if I was going to give this thing to Barb to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? Was I wrong to think that? Seemed reasonable to me at the time... 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-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 triple-a 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. Those of you who know me well have got a pretty good idea of what followed. I’m sitting there alone, Moscow looking on with her 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 twenty-twenty. 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 hate that?)
I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY SHIT! DAaaaauuuuuuMN!!! I’m pretty sure that Jessie Ventura ran in through the front door, picked me up out of that recliner, 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. Moscow was standing over me making barking 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’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 in your thigh like yours truly. SON-OF-A-BIT%CH 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 reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they get there??? My triceps, right thigh and both titties were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, as my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. give or take an ounce or two, I’m pretty sure.
By the way, has anyone seen my testicles? I think they ran away. I’m offering a reward. They’re round, rather large, kinda hairy, and handsome if I must say so myself. Miss ‘em . . . sure would like to get ‘em back!
AMIGO, DON’T EVER DO THIS!
So I figured that the only way to be sure it worked was test it myself. I got off of it quickly but it just about knocked me off of my feet.
Some months later, my wife and I are standing at the fence and I reminded her several times it was hot. She finally leans up and touches the hot wire and the metal t-post, how shall we say, about mid chest level. I clearly heard the crackle.
Perhaps I should not have laughed. In fact I should not have but some things are just funny, I don't care who you are.
That was awesome.