This is all typical behavior for Texoma......
DARWIN AWARD: TIMING IS EVERYTHING
December 2007, Indiana Russell, 19, had a grudge against a
semi truck abandoned on a rural property. And Russell was not
the silent, brooding type. He was a man of action. He built a
gunpowder/propane tank bomb, attached a timer, and planted it
in the moldering truck. He retreated to a distant vantage point
and waited for the fireworks.
And waited.
And waited, until he could wait no more. No boom? This was
not right. Why was nothing happening? Russell approached the
stubbornly intact truck--just in time for a close look at
a cloud of rapidly expanding incandescent gas. Apparently
the truck had a grudge against Russell, too.
Detectives found bomb-making materials at Russell's mobile home,
and believe he was responsible for two explosions the night before
his death, one at the mobile home park and another at a hobby shop.
Although Russell will be missed, we are all a bit safer now.
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DARWIN AWARD: THE ALCHEMIST
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He regularly consumed small quantities of toxic mushrooms, arsenic, and cyanide salts, and urged others to join him during daring night-time excursions. "I shall not die," he said. "I have long drank poison, and my body today, nothing can kill."
After swallowing the KCN, he began to feel ill, and asked his comrades to fetch him some water. But instead of drinking plain water, he dissolved the rest of the cyanide powder in it, and consumed the solution.
Sergei was an intelligent 18-year-old, interested in chemistry and anatomy. He earned "a gold medal" and was "easily accepted into two universities, the Medical Academy and the Ural State University." But Sergei's scientific premise was flawed. Instead of immortality, he had discovered the elixir of mortality. He suffered convulsions, slipped into a coma, and died without regaining consciousness.
His father called Sergei a gifted chemist who died for the sake of science.
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HONORABLE MENTION: SPLITTING HEADACHE (near miss)
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Feeling overzealous, he decided to split the log anyway. He lined up his shot, and brought the axe down dead-center, only to bury the axe blade deep in the girthy log without splitting it. With a swift action, he jerked up on the handle to free the axe for another swing. In doing so, the log scooted forward about a foot before the axe broke free.
Rather than move the heavy log back into place, the man stepped forward a foot to take another swing. The second swing met with the same result as the first, as did the third attempt, the fourth, and so on. In his relentless determination to split the unsplittable, the man did not notice that he and the log had traveled some twenty-five feet across the yard, and were now positioned beheath the clothesline.
As he brought the axe down for another whack at the log, the axe head caught the clothesline, which acted in the same manner as a bow string. The axe head barely touched the top of the log when the clothesline reached its maximum draw, propelling the axe head back toward the man at an ungodly velocity. It found its mark right between his eyes.
Fortunately, the blunt side of the axe head made contact, and rather than killing him, it merely collapsed his sinus and fractured his skull. He recovered, and learned a very important lesson: Always be aware of your surroundings when hurling a sharp object through the air with great force.
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URBAN LEGEND: TASER TEST
Darwin says, "This story from 2004 is most likely an Urban Legend, according to Snopes.com. Since it's a phenomenal story of nearly-fatal poor judgment, I decided to include it in our Darwinian Urban Legends."
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Last weekend I was at Larry's Pistol & Pawn, looking for a little something special for my wife, Toni. 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 Toni 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, while 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 end up 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.
Still in shock,
Earl
ORIGINAL SUBMISSION
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