Wednesday, July 27, 2005

l. a. p. d. (academy)

They call it a taser.

The sensation does not feel anything like the sound of the word. One half of an amp running through your lower body feels like your legs are being stretched several inches longer than they can be stretched, not to mention a huge numerical understatement, if not a mean joke. There must be something like a jack hammer pounding on your foot. Invisible men have wrenched needles deep into your thighs and are jabbing them in to the bony center of them.

It hurts.

I wanted to scream. Not yell, not yalp, not curse-- a piercing, high pitched scream.

Don't tell the MMPI-2 people. I am sure they would feel entirely too smug if they heard. Apparantly, any man who doesn't like to read mechanics magazines stands supect of uncharacteristic femininity. And I suppose any admitted desire by that same man to scream like a little girl as a train runs over the lower half of his body would only confirm the fact in their minds.


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