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tell your tall tales here
tall tales
- Thread starter wildman0101
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post not poll sorry
just tell your tall tales for everyones enjoyment or something you heard,,,funny ,,,serious,,,sad,,sarcastic ect..yp to you...
thanks,,,
scotyb
Mod note - removed poll for you.
The Army.ca Staff
just tell your tall tales for everyones enjoyment or something you heard,,,funny ,,,serious,,,sad,,sarcastic ect..yp to you...
thanks,,,
scotyb
Mod note - removed poll for you.
The Army.ca Staff
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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
dipshit,' 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-BITCH, 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 shit 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.'
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
dipshit,' 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-BITCH, 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 shit 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.'
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 60
I thought I'd share a little story from my time as a reservist some years ago. The names of the units and personnel involved will not be revealed to avoid any further embarrassment.
So there I was, a young private in the CF, just through my infantry course and on my first weekend tasking as enemy force. The tiny harassing det. that I was part of consisted of Myself and two Cpl, lets call them Cpl Bark and Cpl Stars (obviously not real names, as I said before)
We had found a prime piece of ground for our ambush. We were in high ground, there was quite a bit of brush and small trees in our area, not to mention tall thick grass about thigh high.
We were sitting there, smoking and joking, waiting for the "good guys" patrol to stumble across us for some time before Cpl Bark announced he had to relieve himself, and with no porta-potty in sight, and no shovel in our position he headed off to a small tree a few meters away. Cpl Stars and I continued our conversation about nothing for a few minutes before Cpl Bark called out asking if we had any paper or Kleenex. He was unlucky, we didn't.
Being a good Infantry soldier, Cpl Bark always carried a spare pair of socks in his pack, so that's what he used. He then proceded to hang said used sock on a low branch of the tree, because for some reason he thought it was funny. For the moment the humor was lost on me.
At last we caught sight of the patrol. We fired a few shots and they carried out their proper battle procedures, but due to our good position and their lack of experience (they were a Trg platoon) they were unable to locate us. The Cpls instructed me to run back and fourth through the field until I was sure I had been seen, then take a position 25 meters behind them and attack the patrol as they pushed through the Cpls.
So I ran about, waving my arms like an idiot until I heard a Recruit give GRIT, then I made my way to a shooting position where I was able to observe the following hilarity.
The patrol fumbaled its way through an extremely confused and disorganized attack. All fire teams tried to converge on the target at once and when leadership had put a stop to that they had one half the patrol leading the other by a good 15 meters.
The young recruits had finally made their way to the Cpl's position and "killed" them. I chose to wait until consolidation to bump them again. The Patrol commanders are yelling at the Recruits to push through the position, and the now exhausted recruits are driving their bodies in response, pepperpotting as quickly as they were able to reach the commanders which were 10 meters to my front.
I watched one troop in particular who was lagging behind. He took a bound that brought him quite close to the tree Cpl Bark had been at shortly before. As this poor troop went to ground, the scrim on his helmet caught up on the sock that had been in the tree, and the sock became stuck to his helmet, and he went to ground. On his next bound, I observed him to be covered in what I'm sure he thought at first to be mud, and as he ran the dirty sock was slapping him in the face. He made it about five or six paces before he came to an abrupt halt. It had suddenly become clear to him that what he was covered in was not mud at all, and that there was a rather offensive sock stuck to his head. The look on his face was absolutely priceless.
I laughed so hard I gave away my position. The patrol commanders called it quits at that point, deeming both the patrol and enemy force to be a dismal failure. The young recruit covered in "mud" was taken to get cleaned up and changed and the Cpls and I were tasked to find new ground and wait for the next attack, this time near a porta-potty.
I felt bad for the poor kid after the fact, and I would never wish to suffer the same fate my self, but I will never forget the look on his face or the dainty way he removed that sock from his helmet.
Are there any other stories out there worth sharing?
So there I was, a young private in the CF, just through my infantry course and on my first weekend tasking as enemy force. The tiny harassing det. that I was part of consisted of Myself and two Cpl, lets call them Cpl Bark and Cpl Stars (obviously not real names, as I said before)
We had found a prime piece of ground for our ambush. We were in high ground, there was quite a bit of brush and small trees in our area, not to mention tall thick grass about thigh high.
We were sitting there, smoking and joking, waiting for the "good guys" patrol to stumble across us for some time before Cpl Bark announced he had to relieve himself, and with no porta-potty in sight, and no shovel in our position he headed off to a small tree a few meters away. Cpl Stars and I continued our conversation about nothing for a few minutes before Cpl Bark called out asking if we had any paper or Kleenex. He was unlucky, we didn't.
Being a good Infantry soldier, Cpl Bark always carried a spare pair of socks in his pack, so that's what he used. He then proceded to hang said used sock on a low branch of the tree, because for some reason he thought it was funny. For the moment the humor was lost on me.
At last we caught sight of the patrol. We fired a few shots and they carried out their proper battle procedures, but due to our good position and their lack of experience (they were a Trg platoon) they were unable to locate us. The Cpls instructed me to run back and fourth through the field until I was sure I had been seen, then take a position 25 meters behind them and attack the patrol as they pushed through the Cpls.
So I ran about, waving my arms like an idiot until I heard a Recruit give GRIT, then I made my way to a shooting position where I was able to observe the following hilarity.
The patrol fumbaled its way through an extremely confused and disorganized attack. All fire teams tried to converge on the target at once and when leadership had put a stop to that they had one half the patrol leading the other by a good 15 meters.
The young recruits had finally made their way to the Cpl's position and "killed" them. I chose to wait until consolidation to bump them again. The Patrol commanders are yelling at the Recruits to push through the position, and the now exhausted recruits are driving their bodies in response, pepperpotting as quickly as they were able to reach the commanders which were 10 meters to my front.
I watched one troop in particular who was lagging behind. He took a bound that brought him quite close to the tree Cpl Bark had been at shortly before. As this poor troop went to ground, the scrim on his helmet caught up on the sock that had been in the tree, and the sock became stuck to his helmet, and he went to ground. On his next bound, I observed him to be covered in what I'm sure he thought at first to be mud, and as he ran the dirty sock was slapping him in the face. He made it about five or six paces before he came to an abrupt halt. It had suddenly become clear to him that what he was covered in was not mud at all, and that there was a rather offensive sock stuck to his head. The look on his face was absolutely priceless.
I laughed so hard I gave away my position. The patrol commanders called it quits at that point, deeming both the patrol and enemy force to be a dismal failure. The young recruit covered in "mud" was taken to get cleaned up and changed and the Cpls and I were tasked to find new ground and wait for the next attack, this time near a porta-potty.
I felt bad for the poor kid after the fact, and I would never wish to suffer the same fate my self, but I will never forget the look on his face or the dainty way he removed that sock from his helmet.
Are there any other stories out there worth sharing?
