Stun Master Stun Guns, Pepper Shot Pepper Sprays, Personal Alarms, Home Protection

The great thing about writing a column like this is that if I miss out on something significant, one of my loyal readers will send it in to me. I had just finished lunch when an email came in from Clay, late of the Carolina’s, and now residing somewherez in New Mexico. Many thanks for sending this in, because it is must read material.

Ava Estelle is 81 years young, and what I would call a spitfire. Upon hearing the news that her 18 year granddaughter was raped by a couple of mooks, she tracked the sunzabeeches down, and blew their gooseberries off in skid row hotel room.

Granny then took a taxi to the nearest police station and laid her gun on the sergeants desk, telling him, ” Those bastards will never rape anybody again, by God.”

If that doesn’t make you want to go out and buy out all the Fosters on the shelf nothing will. And throw a dozen more shrimp on the barbie!

Granny Estelle hit the bricks after her granddaughter Debbie was carjacked and raped in broad daylight by two knife wielding mooks. Granny said the look on her granddaughter’s face was enough to make her decide to take these two out. She said she had a gun and has been shootin’ her whole life.

And she added, “when the gun law changed, I wasn’t dumb enough to turn mine in.”

She used an artists sketch of the subjects and spent 7 days on the streets in a mook infested neighborhood before she spotted the rapists. She snapped a picture of them, and took it back to her granddaughter for identification. Debbie said, “It was them, sure as hell.”

Granny then went back to the hotel, found the rapists room and knocked on the door. She said, “The minute that big sunzabeech opened that door I shot him where his equipment was hanging, right where it would really hurt. Then I shot the other coward as he was backing up and pleading for me to spare him.”

Mook numero uno lost his putter and a pair of Wilsons, and mook numero dose lost his Wilsons, doctors being able to glue his putter back together to somehow resemble what was once there. He probably won’t be taking any swings with it anytime soon though.

The politicians are baffled trying to figure out what to do with Granny, because 3 million Melbourne people want to nominate her for mayor.

I can just hear Law and Order’s Jack McCoy laying down the reasons Granny should go to jail. And I can hear Granny telling Jack to “bite ya bum!” (Shut up!)

Is it too late to get her on the ballot here?

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com/mace-pepper-gun.htm

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna

I’m in an irascible mood this morning. I woke around six, and started watching the news, which was mostly murder and mayhem, so I switched to the newspapers, which was more of the same. I turned on the radio, and very quickly realized that the media were all on the same page today. Here in Virginia we have entered the dog days of summer, where the temperature and the humidity race each other to 100, making you run for anywhere air conditioned.

I don’t know if itz the heat or the humidity, but this time of year really brings out the craziest mooks on the planet. Yesterday a crazed mook decapitated someone on a bus, taking the trophy for the day, and probably the week.

The Anthrax suspect committed suicide as the Justice Department moved to indict him for killing innocent postal workers.

Casey Anthony, the party hearty mother who killed her two year old, hasn’t yet been indicted for murder because authorities have not found the body. Her mother should be in jail too.

The electric bleachers was something suggested by radio talkmeister Howard Stern many years ago, even before he moved to satelite radio. His thinking was that we should gather up all these crazy mooks and strap them to a large portable set of electric bleachers, and then cook them all in Rockefeller Center a couple of times a year. I’m all for supporting this idea, at least for the next half hour.

After that I’ll just mutter under my breath every time I watch, read, or hear about any of these miscreant mooks, and hope that they get what they deserve in this lifetime.

Some readers want to know what products will keep an attacker the furthest distance away from you. Itz a difficult question because it implies that you will be invoved in an ideal setup, which is having your attacker directly in front of you. While this situation does happen, it is wise to assume that you could just as easily be attacked from the side or from behind.

This is why I have always advocated carrying more than one tool so that you have options. If you have a mook in front of you, and you want to keep them there, at a distance, your two best bets are Mace Pepper Gel, and the Mace Pepper Gun. The first has a range of 18 feet, the second 25 feet.

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com/peppergel.htm

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com/mace-pepper-gun.htm

This is all well and good, and both of these products will work very, very well if a mook is close to you too. Just keep in mind that mooks won’t always confront you head on, and many, many attacks come from behind, so having another option is paramount.

Last night I was watching a television show called “Burn Notice,” which is somewhat entertaining, and there was some really erroneous information about stun guns that was part of the script. Here’s what was said: “If you use a stun gun on another person, and they grab you, you will receive the voltage you have dished out.”

Wrong!

That is totally false, and will not happen. I’m going to send a email to the show telling them to get a clue. The other thing was that they had a woman using the stun gun, and it was too big for her to handle. She would have been much better off with a mini stun gun that delivers more kick than the big model she was using.

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna

My day began early today, with a physical therapy appointment at 630 AM. I’ve been suffering from back spasms, an injury often acquired by football and basketball players. It was also an injury, I must confess, that I thought was something guys made up when they didn’t feel like playing. I thought that it was a Manny Ramirez type injury, where the pain was mostly in the brain.

I often sat in front of the television and laughed when an announcer would say that so and so is not playing today because of back spasm’s. Now I know the truth, which is that I wouldn’t want anyone to have this injury, excepting maybe the Boston Red Sox, and that team from down south with the stars on the helmet. 

Just kidding, I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.

I’ve been getting emails from a number of people, who have gone from feeling scared to be out of the house, to walking around with confidence, now that they have tools to assist them in defending themselves from all manor of mookdom.

This is a good thing, and I hope the trend continues to grow and grow. The more people that are carrying the better. When a mook has to think about things like defending himself, heeze already one step behind, and thatz where we want to keep him.

Jerry from Georgia had a little incident a week or two back when a mook tried to rip off his beer truck, and him. Jerry’s route that day was a good number of neighborhood bars, so he would be picking up a lot of mundo. A lot of neighborhood joints deal strictly in cash, and by the end of the day he might have $10-12 K in the truck.

He was about two thirdz of the way through his route when he was accosted from behind by a mook who wanted his money. The mook was pressing something into his back, and Jerry had both hands on his dolly, which was full of beer. But Jerry also had a Stun Master Hot Shot on his belt. He dropped his right hand off the dolly, grabbing the Hot Shot, and hit the mooks leg mid thigh.

The mooks grip of his neck relaxed, so Jerry turned and gave him another jolt just below his ribs on his right side. This dropped the mook completely, and left him on the ground, trying to figure things out. Jerry called the cops, and waited for them to arrive.

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com/hotshotstungun.htm

It didn’t take long, and the first officer on the scene knew the mook, who was on probation. It turns out that he had only been on the outside 13 days, and with this offense he would have to go back and finish the remaining four years of his previous sentence.

While Jerry and the police officer were chatting, our mookster was sitting against the wall and hollering “Waz Zup? Waz Zup?”

“You’re going back to the GreyBar Hotel…thatz Waz Zup!” said the cop.

The cops hauled the mook away, and Jerry finished hauling in his beer.

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna

I’ve been sitting in the corner at my favorite coffee and tea place, intermittently reading, and watching the hustle and bustle of people coming in and out at a furious pace, getting their coffee or tea, and maybe some not very healthy pastry, to get their motors started.

It seems that everybody is working, and working extra hours to make ends meet these days. Everybody that is, except Congress, who is going on vacation. Again.

And they have the gall to call Bush a slacker. Bush may not command much respect anymore, and deservedly so, but Congressional approval ratings are  approaching single digits.

Single digits! Yet the Congress is probably going to adjourn without an energy bill. The Democrats are so busy protecting the world from oil drilling that they have forgotten who foots the bill for them.  They are, however, at work on a giant omnibus bill that contains enough pork to feed millions of Rosie O’Donnell’s and Oprah’s for the next twenty years or so. Even the very fat and funny commedienne Ralphie May would be more than happy to feast at this years trough.

In the mean streets of Washington children are being murdered, other folks are being shot execution style, and crime runs rampant, even though we are reminded continuily that things are better than they used to be. But Congress has always insulated itself from the real world here. As long as those Lincoln town cars can reach the fashionable restaurants and bars, and get back to Georgetown, everything is, as the Jamaicans say, “Cris.”

Yah mon, evree ting iz cris.

We have a lot of problems that can be fixed right now. But Congressmen and Senators need their vacations. This is summer vacation for Congress, which follows spring vacation, winter vacation, and fall vacation. While you try and content yourself with your two weeks, Congressmen and Senators have a much bigger and better package than you will ever see.

Not to mention that they do very little of import while they are supposedly working. Gas prices will still be high when they return, and my prediction is that they will get higher still, when then are working.

Francine wrote in the other day from Chicago, like Massachusetts and New York, an anti-personal protection zone, about being accosted outside a nightclub, by a couple mooks who now wish they had been somewhere else.

Francine is just shy of the big 4-0, and has been involved in the martial arts since she was just 12. She has a black belt in several different schools, and has traveled around the world to learn from several different masters. She is someone to avoid on the street, but our mooks just figured any woman is easy pickens.

Francine like to travel light, and carries two tools, The Runt 950R, and a black pointed Kubotan. She used both when the mooks struck from her left side late Friday night. Sound tipped her off that all was not kosher, and then she felt hands on neck. She slipped the mook, turning quickly and slamming the Kubotan into his ear. Sensing someone behind her, she quickly pivoted again, this time using The Runt on the mook’s armpit.

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com/runtstungun.htm

The first mook tried to grab her again, and this time Francine smashed his nose with a well placed elbow. The second mook gave the “No mas” signal, but Francine cracked him with a reverse punch to his jaw. The reverse punch is something I learned from an Irish sreet fighter about 20 years ago, and it took me about three weeks to heal up from that training experience.

Francine did the mooks a favor, and called an ambulance before she disappeared into the night.  You can bet your S they concocted a helluva story to tell the medical personel, and  there wouldn’t be any mention of what really happened. 

It used to be that when the going got tough, the tough got going. But not here in Washington, where itz easier to duck out of town, and not have to answer the tough questions. So why is Congress going on vacation?

Because no one is holding them accountable. Because no one is in their grill about doing nothing. Because everyone is waiting for the Obamessiah.

Oh, he’s coming alright. I hope he brings a gigantic bottle of aspirin with him. He’s never had a headache as big as Congress.

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna

I was just finishing up one stack of work last night when I looked up at the computer screen and saw an irrestible story. And of course, it could only happen in Texas, where boys become men right quick. Hell, I’d take a tassel of Texas five year olds over a group of men from San Fransisco any day of the week, iffen ya know what I mean there Vern.

Our five year Texas Tough Toddler was a ward of a daycare center named Imagination Station, which has had itz share of violations, including one in April of this year for improper supervision. State agency bureaucrats are investigating that, and now they can add this to their agenda. Expect results in the year 2010. Hell, glaciers move faster than state agencies.

Now our young man apparently used the old bathroom ruse to get by security, and then when the coast was clear, hightailed it out the fire exit door to get started on his journey.

Now you would think a fire exit would be alarmed, but I guess that wasn’t the case here.

His first stop was at a Pep Boys where he helped himself to some gum, according to an employee of the store. I guess this nimrod thought it was normal for a five year old to show up alone, pilfer some gum, and hit the road. Maybe they only arrest you if you take auto parts.

Then he was off to a Race Trac gas station where he fingered a soda, and soldiered on to Hooters, where a manager found him in the parking lot. This guy apparently recieved the brains that were shorted at Pep Boys and Race Trac, bringing the boy inside, and giving him a coloring book and soda. The tot was disappointed that he didn’t get a Lonestar, but took the soda pop with a smile.

Police were called, and the boy was returned to the custody of his father in short order.

According to investigators, the boy walked over a half mile in 100 degree heat, and crossed two major intersections. He told police that he followed the rules by looking in each direction before crossing, and even stopped in the middle to look both ways again.

Lord help his parents if he gets a bicycle.

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna

I guess it was the sourdough bread, and the exceptional coffee served at breakfast this morning that made me think of San Fransisco without actually being there. I haven’t been there in quite a while, and have been thinking about going to San Fransisco, and other areas in northern California.

I noticed in the news that the mayor of the city got married over the weekend, and it reminded me of the family man who was shot down and killed by illegal aliens, who should have been turned over to the federal government, but weren’t, because San Fransisco is a sanctuary city. The three mook illegals all had criminal records, but none of that counts in San Fransisco, which operates like another planet.

They have their own laws, which they think are more important than the laws that other people have to follow. By the way, this is the home district of Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi, who marches to the beat of a different drum too.

For years, when people would mention crime, San Fransisco residents would point their finger at Oakland, or anywhere else but themselves. Now the baby they birthed is coming back to haunt them, but the mayor and city intelligentsia are busily engaged in some new age fad, and can’t be bothered.

A family man is shot down and killed by illegal mooks that the city harbored, and no one in the entire city government could even pick up the phone and say they were sorry.

Not a one. That’s a disgrace, and you can be sure it will happen again, and again, until someone realizes that the fox will keep killing chickens until he is removed from the henhouse.

I have a way to end all the political posturing in San Fransisco, and it is very simple.

Cut off all federal money until they comply with the rules the rest of us have to live by.

Simple. Let them try and make a go of it on their own.

Itz important that we try this experiment now, in a relatively small city, like San Fransisco. Itz important because Los Angeles isn’t far behind their northern cousins politically, and itz a much bigger place.

Don’t hold out any hope that The Terminator can help, because his wife is the one really running Cali Forn Ya.

My second piece of advice is to get tooled up, and carry all the time.

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com

When mook illegals have more rights than you do, you have entered a twilight zone.

And it won’t be long before they have their own health care plan.

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna

A few weeks ago I received an order from Ram, an Indian immigrant who has a small restaurant in an iffy part of a large city. In the Notes section he wrote, “Please sent right away!” We usually ship the same day we get an order, and certainly by noon the next day, so he received his tools quickly.

Ram must have had some trouble, because he ordered a couple of 1 pound Wildfire Pistol Grip Containers. That kind of firepower could take out a muddle of mooks, and then some, and then do it again a few times.

He also ordered up some other tools that would have him ready for a street brawl, and to make sure he came out on top.

Yesterday afternoon I got an email from him.

Big Kahuna,

Many thanks for the “tools.” I have had trouble with two different groups of what you refer to as “mooks.” Both these groups wanted me to pay money to them every week for “protection.” Twice they have broken windows and doors in my business. The police take notes, and then they go.

Two weeks ago, one group showed up and threatened my wife. That made me very angry, and I decided to take them on the next time they came. I didn’t have to wait long because they returned two days later.

This time when they demanded money I went a little crazy. I yelled and screamed very loudly, and they thought it was funny. Then I grabbed the Wildfire and sprayed them down. There were four of them, and in less than ten seconds they were all on the floor screaming. One managed to get outside, but my wife followed him and sprayed him again.

My head cook and I tied the hands of the ones inside. We then called police.

We waited a few minutes for them to arrive. We told our story to the police, and one policeman asked to see the pepper spray. Then he showed it to the other police. Then the police looked at the mooks faces, which were very swollen. One of the police told me, “Thatz some real hot sauce you got there Jack!”

The police took the mooks away, and charged them with a half dozen counts of crime.

Big Kahuna, you are right. We must protect ourselves because no one will do it for us.

I had a plan, like you say.

Ramchander

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com/wildfire.htm

Kudos, my friend.

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna

Last night before I nodded off I was thinking about when a friend of mine tried for days to teach me how to whistle. Not the whistling that people do around the house, trying to whistle a tune, or something like a tune, thatz not not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about a loud whistle, the kind that gets your attention quick.

I tried and I tried, but I never mastered it. Over the years I met a lot of guys, and even some gals, that could get your attention in a heartbeat with a whistle. It used to bug me that I couldn’t do it, and still bothers me some.

Luckily for me, and for all the others who never mastered the art of the screeching whistle, you can get one that works like a charm. Itz called the Electronic Pocket Whistle, and there is no problem with the sound. The Electronic Pocket Whistle throws 120 decibels of sound, which is as loud as a Ted Nugent concert. Well, maybe not quite that loud, but you won’t have any trouble hearing it, and neither will anyone else.

Mooks don’t like whistles. Something in mook DNA goes awry when they hear the sound of a very loud whistle, which they acquaint with the pole eeze, with whom they don’t have a very romantic relationship.

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com/alarm.htm

Whistles also get other peoples attention, and I have lots of emails from folks who have had others come to their aid when they blew their whistle. In others cases just the blowing of the whistle caused mooks to scuttle whatever plan they had, and run.

Last year I watched in delight at film of a mook who took off when a whistle was blown only to be tripped by his low hanging pants with the belt around his knee’s. There’s dumb, and there is RFS.

Get yourself an Electronic Pocket Whistle. It turns your key chain into a safety alarm.

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna

This morning whilst reading several newspapers, as is my habit, I came across a story in the Washington Post, written by Dana Milbank, that immediately grabbed my attention. The story covered something that I have followed very closely, and have written about previously, the horrible condition of military hospitals, and the unbelieveably bad treatment they are receiving after serving their country with honor.

Here are some of the generals answers to questions:

We had not sufficiently empowered our commanders…

We’re going to review this…

We’ve had our challenges…

It simply wasn’t nimble enough…

It’s a logjam…

We are not meeting the standard…

And my personal favorite: That’s a valid concern.

What happened in the committee hearing is called the Washington Two Step. It goes like this: I’ll kiss your S, and then you can kiss mine. Meeting adjourned. Sighs of relief all around. Business to continue as usual until the next hearing.

And what happens is those heroic young men and women continue to suffer while generals and admirals fight over the design of luxury suites in cargo planes so they don’t have to endure the same rough ride as every else.

The truth is that since this story first broke in the Washington Post that only cosmetic changes have taken place. The care facilities are still understaffed, and the list of those who need treatment is still growing. The brass are using a new term, “warrior care,” and they claim the priority is “second only to the global war on terror.”

Somehow, I don’t think that’s the case, and if it was, the generals wouldn’t be sitting in front of a committee sucking up, while trying to hide the sweat pouring off their heads.

And make no mistake, there is plenty of blame for the committee to shoulder, as well as the House and Senate, and the White House. And some blame should fall on the anti-war folks who always claim they are against the war, and for the troops. That, of course, is Bee Ess, because they don’t give a ratz S about anything but making noise.

The generals are long on praise for Congress, and short on delivery for the troops. It is a continuing national disgrace, and an issue that should be seized by both of the Presidential candidates.

Meanwhile, there are many private institutions that are trying to help our “warriors.” Look them up on Google, and if you have any spare change, poker winnings, or too much fast food money, send it to them.

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com

Stay aware, alert, and have a plan.

Aloha kau,

Nui (Big) Kahuna�

Sometimes I get phone calls from some of my old buddies that make me laugh for hours. This morning I got one from the one and only Buford Bodacious Brown, one of the biggest and baddest catz I have ever met. Buford is about 6′6”and weighs in around three fitty. He was lighter than that in the old days when he went around 280 pounds.

Boo, or Bee 3, as we often called him, was as strong a guy as I have ever seen. If you were a mook in those days you didn’t want Bee 3 getting his hands on you. You especially didn’t want his hands on you if you had provoked him. He could break your hand easily in a handshake, and if he hit you in the head you weren’t going to wake up in a few minutes. When you did wake your head wouldn’t be the same for a week.

We shared a pad overseas for a couple of years doing some really dangerous work, and when you walked down some of those narrow streets and alleyways you couldn’t have asked for a better backup. In addition to being gorilla strong the man had the night vision of a tiger. More than once he took someone out before I saw them.

So last week Bee 3 is sitting in a bar in Los Angeles, having a few malt beverages waiting on a lady friend when half a dozen young mooks come in. He scopes them, and asks the bartender for another.

One of the mooks orders up for the group, and tells the bartender to take it out of “Fatso’s” pile. The bartender tells the mook this isn’t a good idea, and suggests he pay for it. The mook pulls a knife and tells the bartender again to take it out of “Fatso’s” pile.

Boo turns his stool and asks the mook if he just called him “Fatso.”

The mook says yes, he did indeed call him “Fatso.”

The other mooks move up to the bar, crowding Boo.

Boo says, “I wish you hadn’t said that, because now I’m gonna have to kick your ass.”

The mooks all start gaggling like a group of turkeys, and before they can blink 3 of them are screaming and Boo has a hold of two. He puts them down in seconds and grabs the last mook who is coming at him with a knife. He cracks him, and then he falls.

It went down like this. Mook one took a telescopic steel baton on the side of his knee, and it broke bone. Mook number two took the baton on a  shin, and it broke. Mook number three had his arm broken below the elbow. Mooks four and five each broke a collarbone, and mook six broke four or five ribs. And it all happened in about twenty seconds total.

http://www.bigkahunasecurity.com/telescopic.htm

Believe it or not, Boo has mellowed in his later years, and though it seems like a lot of damage, it really isn’t, compared to what he is capable of doing, even if he is a shade on the tubby side. Or as he put it, “I’ll bet those dumbasses will think twice about who they call a fat effer now!”

My guess is a few of them will straighten up and fly right, saying goodbye to the mook life. For the ones who don’t, you can be sure they’ll be lookin for skinny targets.

Stay aware, alert, and have aplan.

Aloha kaua,

Nui (Big) Kahuna