Sunday, July 24, 2011

A cure for bedwetting - NOT!


Readers will doubtless have noticed that I've added Og, the Neanderpundit, to my blogroll on the right. Before settling on the Neanderpundit as his online home, Og had a number of other blogs, which remain online as a sort of archive of his work. I was browsing through one of them, Witness Marks, when I came across this gem. Here's an extract.

Around my twelfth year, I spent a lot of time hanging around with a kid named…. we’ll call him John. John was a lot like me, pretty solitary, massively curious, dangerous to be around.

Anyway, cutting to the chase, John had a sister. We’ll call her Judy. Judy was fifteen, but she had a problem with bedwetting. She was, in all other respects, perfectly normal, but she wet the bed nearly every night. Her exasperated parents had tried everything. Well, almost everything.

Dad had a bird dog that loved to go off. If you didn't chain this sucker down, it would be all over the damned place, and usually was. Dad’s answer to this was to get an electric fence charger and put a single strand of hot wire on the top of our chain link fence, and the dog stayed home. It convinced the dog so thoroughly that the mere sight of the wire was enough to keep it from jumping, so dad was able to eventually leave the charger completely off. Not, though before John and I had learned about pissing on a fence wire.

"Hey, that a lectric fence?" he said to me one day.

"Yep, dad put it up to keep Ginger in."

"Cool! You know if you pee on one it’ll shock you!"

"No, I didn’t know that!"

Of course, in nine seconds we had discreetly unzipped and were working up a stream. We had to pee a little uphill because of the location of the wire, but I finally managed to hit it.

To anyone who knows nothing of fence chargers, you may not know that they deliver a pulse of some fairly potent juice, but to keep them from drawing a ton of juice, they only pulse on every few seconds, and then for only a short time.So when I first hit the wire, I didn’t feel a thing. "Hey, you’re full of shOOOOWWW! OWWWW OWWWW! Why the HELL did you tell me to do that?"

"I didn’t, but it doesn't feel that SONOFABITCH!!!!" as the pulse hit him.

Now, under any circumstances, a couple of twelvesomething kids with raging hardons and jangling balls would be cause for alarm, but a tiny bell went off in my head.

"Hey!"

"What?"

"We could use this for Judy!"

"We’ll never get her to pee on this wire!"

"No, I mean we can hook this up to her bed. If she pees, it’ll make her wake up and she won’t pee the bed the next time."

"You’re a genius!"


The rest of the tale is at the link. I defy you to read it and not howl with laughter! There's also a prequel and a sequel to the story, which are just as funny - if not more so.

(It occurs to me that Miss D. is in Og's territory right now, staying with Brigid, who knows him well. I suspect I'd better be on my guard when she gets back, and check for trailing wires before I get into bed with my wife . . . )





Peter

5 comments:

Sean of Junction said...

Funny! An object lesson on the sort of trouble boys are supposed to get into.

Crucis said...

Ohh, man. We had 'lectric fences on the Farm. The difference was we raised mostly hogs. There's nothing a hog likes better than to stick its nose under the edge of a fence and rip it right off the posts.

Picture a sow trying that after we added a strand of wire about 6" off the ground and hooled to a charger. Ours ran off 120vac circuit. Some ran off batteries and delivered a smaller charge.

That sow never did like me.

Old NFO said...

LOL- Good stories...

trailbee said...

Hysterical! Thank you!

Home on the Range said...

Hunting a year or so ago with Og and a couple of other friends.

A good portion of the corn had already been cut down, but we'd heard a grunt. There were deer, at least one good sized one in the small area left standing.

Two of us walked the edges of that area while the other two guys went through the middle trying to make noise to flush them out towards us. It was deathly silent, then from inside the corn rows, I hear the loud, crystal clear vocal strains of "Ode to Joy" which then segued into "Back Home in Indiana", in an incredibly rich, clear tenor that blew me away. I couldn't see who was singing but it almost brought tears to my eyes.. Then the same voice broke into a rousing chorus of "The Scrotum Song." Ahhh. Og.

There are a handful of people that not only do I consider their friendship like family but that I trust with my life in the field. Og is one of them and he and his wife and I have shared many a good story and laugh.