19 December 2011

Electric Fence...

(WARNING!!  Do NOT drink anything while reading this!  Failure to follow this simple rule will result in your snorting fluids through your nostrils, and you have been forewarned!!!)

We have the standard 6ft. 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, drove 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 Walmart 6hp bigwheel pushmower.  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 gigavolt fencewire 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 testicles 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 POS lawnmower were fighting over who would control my electrical impulses.

Science says one cannot defecate, urinate, and ejaculate all 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 cant let go.  I grew up on a farm so I know all about electric fences... But Dad always had those POS chargers made by International or whoever that were like 9 volts and just kinda tickled.  This 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.

'GOODNESS!, 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, semen, and with my testicles on my chest I think 'Oh,  Please die... Pleeeeze 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 were the wire had layed 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 semen when all mixed together, do not smell as bad a you might first think.
4- My left eye will not open.
5- My right eye will not close.
6- The lawnmower runs like a banshee 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 gameroom 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.

Stay safe.

12 comments:

  1. That's another one to classify under "You can't make them up!":)

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  2. My neighbor has two MEAN dogs that charge the fence every time they see me. They deserve that treatment.

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  3. Can I please have your address so I can send my ex over to try to burgle you? I'll pay for the video.

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  4. LeeAnn

    Blue would probably set it up with 220 if you pay him.:)

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  5. Walked into a weed chopper fence out squirrel huntin one mornin'. Got it right in the crotch with wet pants on. I think they got wetter.

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  6. Brock... It had to happen to someone. Can you imagine? I'm still laughing.

    Bob... I like dogs. Just not mean dogs. Especially mean dogs who chase bicyclists. Zap 'em :)

    Irish... "..a hell of an orgasm". That's one way of putting it. You always find the positive in every situation :)

    LeeAnn... Your plea for help has me rolling as hard as the story had me rolling. Somehow, I think you might be serious :)

    Brock... 220 is no problem. I aim to please. If you're gonna do it, do it right! :)

    Dakota... I worked for a dairy farmer with a sick sense of humor when I was in high school. I'd shut off the electric fence in the mornings so I could open the "wire gate" and head out to the pasture to herd the cows up to the barn without getting zapped by the dew covered "everything". He'd wait until I headed out and he'd turn the fencer back on. There were times I hated that man :) My grandfather had me hold the spark plug wire once on his old Elto outboard motor while he bumped the flywheel. Yeah. that magneto would knock your socks off. I loved that man. :) I did the same thing to my brothers and my cousin after that.

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  7. My left eye will not open.

    My right eye will not close.

    THAT, my friends, is good stuff.

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  8. 220 can be bad. One of my wife's cousins in Vietnam went on the roof to do something with the antenna and got killed.

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  9. all kidding aside, Brock. Yes, 220 can be very bad.

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  10. 110 can be worse!

    I once got "grabbed" by a "drop light" that was missing its ground.

    The dew came down, I dropped the light, bent over to pick it up and...

    Waaaaaaaawwwww.....

    As every muscle in my body contracted at once, My hand locked around the light. I struggled mightily trying to throw it out of my hand, but with all my muscles locked, it just didn't work.

    It had me for a good 90 seconds or so before the girlfriend realized what was happening and unplugged me.

    Thank G*d I was young and healthy - it would kill me today.

    Needless to say, I don't screw with Mr. Electricity.

    He is NOT your friend!

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  11. DD... Mr. Electricty deserves respect. Whoa!

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  12. This has just improved my day mightily- while I have done many dumb or unlucky things in my life, I have never been able to share them so elegantly. I just made the crew on my boat read this, and you, sir, are now one of our favorite people.

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Sorry about the word verification. I've had enough of the fucking spammers.