Good times, everybody. Good times.

When I was twelve, I quit playing soccer. I had broken my left ankle, and, in my first game back, broke my right ankle. Needless to say, I took that as a sign and switched to baseball. So about halfway through my first season, I'm standing on first base and get the sign to steal second. I slide in underneath the tag, and am pretty stoked.

I then look down and see a giant hole right underneath the left knee of my uniform pants, and my leg is gushing blood. Turns out there was a ton of broken glass around second base. I didn't feel a thing, either--except the tetanus shot later that day.

-Warren

That was excessively violent and completely unnecessary. I loved it.

Wow this is turning into quite the thread! Yikes!

Site dude - S3 Agent #202
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"It starts... when it begins" -- Ralf Kilauea

when I was 5 or so, my sister and I had this habbit of playing on the stairs (esp sunday omrning when our parents where still sleeping) and climbing up on the bannister. so one day, doing this while wearing socks, I slipped off, fell to the stairs and hit the bannister with my chin .... while having my tongue between my teeth.

funny thing, it didnt hurt that much form what I remember, but the tongue is one of the most bloodiest muscle in once body, plus with the saliva.... anyway, it looked like a complete slasher movie.

so my sister went into my parents bedroom, and told my mom Id hurt myself, and my mom says "oh let me sleep another rminute".... so my sis, as good 7year olds do, went out the room, counted out loud to 60 and went back in. I dont think they ever had the intention to wake up, untill I actually walked in the room covered in blood.

in the hospital it turned out my tongue was still attached by a quarter inch, they stiched it, had to go back to ER twice cause the stiches got loose. I had to eat soup and pudding for a week.

Rules to live by #314:
"When in Italy, if the menu says something's grilled, don't assume it is."

https://www.facebook.com/The-Malbehavers-286429584796173/

Just Saturday, I was doing some cleaning on the homefront, but the thing is - my room has incredibly low ceilings (maaaaybe seven feet), and as I mentioned and BTD questioned - I'm about 6'1. So I was pulling the cord out of my vacuum cleaner, which involved me yanking it straight up out of the vacuum.

Long story short, I managed to accidentally punch the light fixture on my ceiling in the act, and I looked at my hand to see about a half-inch gash between my pinky and ring finger knuckle. While that doesn't sound so bad, I flexed my hand, and soon realized that it stretched to about an eighth of an inch wide, and was probably an eighth of an inch deep as well (I'm talking I could literally see INTO my hand).

So, of course, a few seconds later it started gushing blood, and didn't let up for about half an hour. At least at this point it has scabbed over a bit, but every now and again, it hurts like a b*tch. I'm hoping to give the hand a little guitar workout tonight before I have band practice on Thursday.

~B~

I couldn't tell you how times I have used Super Glue to hold together wounds while surfing in Mexico. Fin cuts to feet and fingertip rips from grabbing on to the rocks and reefs to keep getting dragged across Urchin beds.

This thread is really a trip. Lots of great stories. Some that make me cringe like Danny's story. Yikes. But surprising how many weird little things happen.

On brighter note. Dolphins rule! Today while surfing. There must have been at least 8 or 9 hanging the surf with us today. So close this time. I could almost touch them. It was awesome. Plus the surf was kinda fun today, too.

RT

I'd say good luck...just to stay optimistic.:)
Losing finger/toe nails is no fun at all. I lost one to a ground ball and a bad hop during a little league game. The ball popped up off the ground and hit me in the hand and bounced to the side. I picked it up and gunned the guy out at first, then realized that my fingernail was gone and that I was in horrible pain. Apparently the ball had a fair amount of blood on it too. But still, the important thing is I got the dude out. I felt like such a badass I'd still rather take a needle to the foot, though. That finger hurt like a mother.

I've never winced so much from a single thread. This is fantastic.

Ok I finally remembered some of my horror stories instead of my sister or Dad.

1st one I was 5 and at the baby siters house, me and the other 2 boys that lived there 4years old were runnign around playing airplane with our arms out. They both crashed on the couch, I hit the edge of the floor rug, and fell and hit my eyebrow bone on the corner of my eye on the corner of the coffee table. it started gushing blood. as soon as my Dad got there he took me to the hospital. This old man doctor was coming at me like a Horror movie,with this giant needle and thread and I was freakin' out. My dad took me to a younger doctor and he came from behind my head and I didnt even wince.

2nd story
I was in 7th grade.
I was riding a friend of my dads, 2000 dollar racing 10 speed bike.
I went to go up a drive way at a sharp angle instead of strait in.
the tire bounced off the cement and veard back out into the street.
My left Knee hit the curb about 20 mph. it hurt so bad.
about 5 min later , my knee was the size of a soccer ball.
I went to the doctor, and they said the sac of fluid between the 2 leg bones had ruptured and they needed to suck it out. They got this huge Hyperdermic needle and went in and tried to get the fluid, there was none. But as they were pushing the needle against the bones inside, I was screaming liek I was dying. I felt like I was gonna jump up and claw the ceiling like a cat in a cartoon. My mom and sister almost passed out, they had to leave the room. I stayed in bed for 2 weeks, I could barely walk
with crutches.

3rd story. 11th grade
I was trying to make a Jolt cola bottle look like a wine bottle with candle and dripping wax. But it was a dripless candle where the wax just burns away, instead of dripping down the side. so I got my swiss army knife and cut some notches in the candle for wax to drip out of.
But I got wax allover the blade. So I went and got some Toilet paper to clean it. as I drew the extremely sharp blade through the TP, it cut
through it and my finger. Filleted like a fish. It gushed blood real good.
I wrapped it in a ton of TP and had my mom take me to the doctor.
They put a bunch of Neosporin in it,and taped it down tight and wrapped it with gauss. and a splint. Now my finger print is off by a few lines, because they pulled the skin to far. ha ha ha.
now I gotta make sure I never get finger printed, very distinctive mark.
ha ha ha.

good times.
Jeff(bigtikidude)

Jeff(bigtikidude)

Yeah, I've got a few good scar stories. I think the first was when I was maybe 5 or 6, and I was helping my mom get dinner ready. We were having corned beef hash, and I'd already keyed the an open, but then I forcibly tried to pull the coiled metal off the can, and sliced my finger down to the bone. I have a warped fingerprint from that one as well.

The second one is also a sibling-related injury. My sister was pushing me through the kitchen on her new roller skates when I was maybe 8. My feet went out from under me and I went chin-first into the door jamb. Gave a nice scar, but now I know exactly how far back my goatee grows down on my chin.

The last one is a baseball one. While my knees are a disaster from grade school basketball, it was baseball that did the most damage in high school. I dislocated my pinky as a freshman, also got a hairline fracture in my left forearm. My first regular-season varsity game I spent with an ice pack over my eye, as a temmate had an errant throw that blindsided me and knocked me out cold. Then, my senior year, a bad bounce on a pick-off throw when I was playing first base knocked me out (it's happened more times than I'd like), and also apparently took a chip out of the bridge of my nose. All I know is I woke up propped up in the dugout with blood pouring all down my jersey.

Goooood times,
~B~

I broke my nose bodysurfing at Makapu'u, blood mixing with seawater and running down my chest...

My scar stories:

Back in the old day swing sets sometimes included a metal double sided swing that maybe up to four kids could get on and swing. I don't think they make these contraptions anymore for liability reasons. Anyway, I bent over to pick up my ball, and the thing came full force with a bunch of kids on it and nailed me at my hairline on my forehead. The scar has disappeared after all these years, but I still have a dent in my head were it hit me.

Then, a few years later, I got hit with a huge branch from a tree, in the forehead again, but a little lower. Later, in middle school, I got pushed through a window. It cut my neck, but not my jugular, luckly.