Electric Fence

“We have the standard 6 ft. fence in 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 feet 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 Wal-Mart 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 foot 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, and 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 my teeth seem to 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 nuts 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 newfound 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.

Air Traffic

Tower: “TWA 2341, for noise reduction turn right 45 Degrees.”

TWA 2341: “Center, we are at 35,000 feet. How much noise can we make up here?”

Tower: “Sir, have you ever heard the noise a 747 makes when it hits a 727?”

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From an unknown aircraft waiting in a very long takeoff queue: “I’m f-ing bored!”

Ground Traffic Control: “Last aircraft transmitting, identify yourself immediately!”

Unknown aircraft: “I said I was f-ing bored, not f-ing stupid!”

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O’Hare Approach Control to a 747: “United 329 heavy, your traffic is a Fokker, one o’clock, three miles, Eastbound.”

United 329: “Approach, I’ve always wanted to say this…I’ve got the little Fokker in sight.”

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A DC-10 had come in a little hot and thus had an exceedingly long rollout after touching down.

San Jose Tower noted: “American 751, make a hard right turn at the end of the runway, if you are able.

If you are not able, take the Guadelupe exit off Highway 101, make a right at the lights and return to the airport.”

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A Pan Am 727 flight, waiting for start clearance in Munich, overheard the following:

Lufthansa (in German): “Ground, what is our start clearance time?”

Ground (in English): “If you want an answer you must speak in English.”

Lufthansa (in English): “I am a German, flying a German airplane, in Germany. Why must I speak English?”

Unknown voice from another plane (in a beautiful British accent): “Because you lost the bloody war!”

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Tower: “Eastern 702, cleared for takeoff, contact Departure on frequency 124.7”

Eastern 702: “Tower, Eastern 702 switching to Departure. By the way, after we lifted off we saw some kind of dead animal on the far end of the runway.”

Tower: “Continental 635, cleared for takeoff behind Eastern 702, contact Departure on frequency 124.7. Did you copy that report from Eastern 702?”

BR Continental 635: “Continental 635, cleared for takeoff, roger; and yes, we copied Eastern… we’ve already notified our caterers.”

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The German air controllers at Frankfurt Airport are renowned as a short-tempered lot. They not only expect one to know one’s gate parking location, but how to get there without any assistance from them. So it was with some amusement that we (a Pan Am 747) listened to the following exchange between Frankfurt ground control and a British Airways 747, call sign Speedbird 206.

Speedbird 206: “Frankfurt, Speedbird 206 clear of active runway.”

Ground: “Speedbird 206. Taxi to gate Alpha One-Seven.”

The BA 747 pulled onto the main taxiway and slowed to a stop.

Ground: “Speedbird, do you not know where you are going?”

Speedbird 206: “Stand by, Ground, I’m looking up our gate location now.”

Ground (with quite arrogant impatience): “Speedbird 206, have you not been to Frankfurt before?”

Speedbird 206 (coolly): “Yes, twice in 1944, but it was dark, — And I didn’t land.”

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While taxiing at London’s Gatwick Airport, the crew of a US Air flight departing for Ft. Lauderdale made a wrong turn and came nose to nose with a United 727. An irate female ground controller lashed out at the US Air crew, screaming: “US Air 2771, where the hell are you going? I told you to turn right onto Charlie taxiway! You turned right on Delta! Stop right there. I know it’s difficult for you to tell the difference between C and D, but get it right!” Continuing her rage to the embarrassed crew, she was now shouting hysterically: “God! Now you’ve screwed everything up! It’ll take forever to sort this out! You stay right there and don’t move till I tell you to! You can expect progressive taxi instructions in about half an hour, and I want you to go exactly where I tell you, when I tell you, and how I tell you! You got that, US Air 2771?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the humbled crew responded. Naturally, the ground control communications frequency fell terribly silent after the verbal bashing of US Air 2771. Nobody wanted to chance engaging the irate ground controller in her current state of mind. Tension in every cockpit out around Gatwick was definitely running high. Just then an unknown pilot broke the silence and keyed his microphone, asking: “Wasn’t I married to you once?”

GirlFriend 6.0 or Wife 1.0

Last year a friend of mine, system administrator as myself, changed the application GirlFriend 6.0 by Wife 1.0 and found that the update was not very successful. First of all Wife 1.0 leaves very little system resources for other applications, not only this, but he has also realized that Wife 1.0 is a prolific processor of Babys 1.x, which are additionally consumers of valuable resources.

There was no mention of this particular fact neither from the product manufacturers nor in the warranty, altough some colleagues had inform me that this was expectable, due to the nature of the application.

But surprises didn’t end up there, additionally Wife 1.0 configures itself so that it always starts when the system is initialized, from where it can monitor the rest of the processes.

My friend is noticing that some applications like: NightOfPoker 10.3, BeerParty 2.5 and PubNight 7.0 no longer can be run, because Wife 1.0 locks the system when they are selected (even so they always worked fine before).

During the installation, Wife 1.0 installs automatically services not desired, like MotherInLaw 55.8 and the DEMO version of BrotherInLaw. The most outstanding effects of these services are the progresive and daily degradation of the system.

My friend is very seriously considering to change the version of the application Wife, but there are some features that he would like to be added to the next version (Wife 2.0), these are:

A “Forget me” button and another for minimizing.
A new option that allows to install Wife 2.0 with an option of “Desinstall at any time”, without losing the cache and other valuable system resources.
An option to run the network controller in “promiscuous” mode, that allows to the system to try shareware version of different applications, to have a better knowledge of the market.

I have decided to avoid all the headaches associated with Wife 1.0, continuing with GirlFriend 2.0. Even so, I have found many problems. Aparently you can’t install GirlFriend 2.0 on GirlFriend 1.0, you have to desinstall GirlFriend 1.0 first. Additionally, aparently, the versions of GirlFriend have conflicts to share the same I/O (Input/Output) port. The technical support has said me that it is a known bug and that they are looking for some way to bypass the problem, because it seems to be implemented in the kernel (heart) of the application and it is not a good idea to change it.

Even worse, the program to desinstall GirlFriend 1.0 doesn’t work very well, leaving unwished traces of the application in the system. Another problem: all the versions of GirlFriend continually give anoying messanges about the advantages of changing to Wife 1.0. After talking again with the service they suggest me to ignore those messages, and when I point that for that solution it was not necessary to phone them, they go back again on the explanation of the former problem (bug in the kernel).

WIFE 1.0 INCOMPATIBILITIES: If you try to install Lover 1.1 before desinstalling Wife 1.0, this erases the files MS-Money, and after it desinstalls itself. Then Lover 1.1 won’t install, claiming that system resources are too low. To avoid this effect, try to install Lover 1.1 in a different environment and never run a file transfer application, like LipStickSpot 6.0. Also try to avoid renting applications, because it’s known that they can transmit viruses that can affect Wife 1.0. Another solution is to run Lover 1.1 through a network provider with and anonimous name. Once again, avoid viruses that can be accidentally loaded.

Parrot

At dawn the telephone rings.

“Hello, Senor Lucky? This is Ernesto the caretaker at your country house.”
“Ah yes, Ernesto. What can I do for you? Is there a problem?”

“Um, I am just calling to advise you, Senor, that your parrot died”
“My parrot? Dead? The one that won the International competition?”
“Si, Senor, that’s the one.”
“Damn! That’s a pity! I spent a fortune on that bird.
“What did he die from?”
“From eating rotten meat, Senor”
“Rotten meat? Who the hell fed him rotten meat?”

“Nobody, Senor. He ate the meat of the dead horse.”
“Dead horse? What dead horse?”
“The thoroughbred, Senor Lucky. He died from all that work pulling the water cart.”
“Are you insane? What water cart?”

“The one we used to put out the fire, Senor”
“Good Lord! What fire are you talking about, man?”
“The one at your house! A candle fell and the curtains caught on fire.”
“What the…..! But there’s electricity at the house!

What was the candle for?”

“For the funeral, Senor.”
“WHAT BLOODY FUNERAL?”
“Your wife’s, Senor…she showed up one night out of the blue and thought she was a thief. So I hit her with your new Tiger Woods Nike Driver.”

SILENCE……………….

“Ernesto, if you broke that driver, you’re in deep shit!”

Four married guys go golfing.

The Golf Course Or…

Four married guys go golfing.

While playing the 4th hole, the following conversation took place: 1st Guy: “You have no idea what I had to do to be able to come out golfing this weekend. I had to promise my wife that I will paint every room in the house next weekend.”

2nd Guy: “That’s nothing, I had to promise my wife I will build a new deck for the pool.”
3rd Guy: “Man, you both have it easy! I had to promise my wife I will remodel the kitchen for her.

They continued to play the hole when they realized that the 4th guy hadn’t said anything. So they asked him, “You haven’t said anything about what you had to do to be able to come golfing this weekend.
What’s the deal?”

4th guy: “I just set my alarm for 5:30 a.m. and when it went off, I shut off the alarm, gave the wife a nudge and said, ‘golf course or intercourse?’

And she said, “Wear your sweater”.

Home Depot

I went to Home Depot recently while not being altogether sure that course of action was a wise one.

You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented ‘you’re definitely going to shit yourself’ road-kill chili. Tasty stuff, although hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat it, the next day both of your butt cheeks WILL fall off . . .

Here’s the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No ‘Watson’s Movement . . . Despite the chillies swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I was unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to by my dear wife as ‘thunder and lightning’.

Knowing that a time of reckoning HAD to come, yet not sure of just when, I bravely set off for Home Depot, my quest being paint and supplies to refinish the deck. Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn’t until I was at the opposite end of the store from the toilets that the pain hit me.

Oh, don’t look at me like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m referring to that ‘Uh, Oh, Shit, gotta go’ pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different. The chillies from the night before were staging a revolt. In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in the direction of the toilets which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The chillies fired a warning shot.

There I stood, alone in the paint and stain section, suddenly enveloped in a toxic cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me. Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as a red aproned clerk turned the corner and asked if I needed any help.

I don’t know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what his reaction would be to the toxic non-visible fog that refused to dissipate. Have you ever been TORN IN TWO DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS EMOTIONALLY?

Here’s what I mean, and I’m sure some of you at least will be able to relate. I could’ve warned that poor clerk, but didn’t. I simply watched as he walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all he could do before gathering his senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving his arms about his head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh . . . . . . . . BIG mistake!!!!!

Here’s the thing. When you laugh, it’s hard to keep things ‘clamped down’, if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun. Suddenly things were no longer funny . ‘It’ was coming, and I raced off through the store towards the toilet, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I’d make it before the grand explosion took place.

Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the inevitable ‘Oh my God’, floating above the toilet seat because my ass is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of what is the true meaning of ‘Shock and Awe’. He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, “SON-OF-A-BITCH! DID IT SMELL THAT BAD WHEN YOU ATE IT?” then quickly left.

Once finished and I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me and said, ‘Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem.’

My smirking of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, “IT’S YOU!” then ran off returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return.
Home again without my supplies, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to shop at Lowes.

I can’t say anymore about that because we are in court over the whole matter. Bastards claim they’re going to have to repaint the store.