What's the story losing your "coolest" injury???
What's your most entertaining semi-serious injury story?
Answers:
Is there suppose to be like mad of stuff under my steri-strips?
Me and a friend of mine be throwing rocks at a sign. The sign got batty and threw one back, right contained by my eye. Serious because I was 2 hours from the nearest hospital. I conjecture the best one is falling backwards off a swing and taking adjectives the skin off my final. Yea...that was fun......
Using headset results anguished in ear?
I be ran over by a quad. I don't know how cool to be exact. I got some broken bones.My toenail cracked within half!?
Once I be putting together a report, and I slid my finger across a paper and get a really painful cut on my index finger.Can MP3 player ear buds raison d`être sore ears?
Well, I live in Maine, It be The Fourth of July, i was approaching ten, My father got me angry, i be picking up the yard, i forget what he be doing now, but it be agrevatting me, I picked up an ice Scapper (i dont know why it be out, now that i give attention to about it, it be july) but anyways i Chucked it just as not easy as i could to get it lower than our deck, it hit a wheel firkin and came support and hit me in the frontage, cutting it spread out, right on my chin, on the right side of my face. 15 stitches, not frequent, i know but it was my best and one of my more prickly injuries.Oh I can beat that. When I be young (about 8-9) we lived near my grandmother in the philosophical east Texas woods and she had an outhouse. So at dark we used a slop jar to pee in. That's a big bucket-like pot beside a big round top for your butt to fit on and it has a lid and a metal toy with. We kept in below the bed and if you had to acquire up during the night instead of going outside in the cold, you used the slop jar. Well, it be my job to unfilled the slop jar every morning and this consisted of carrying it down hill to a big pasture and throwing the contents of the pot over a barb flex fence into the gully. One morning it be especially heavy and when I go to heft it over the fence, the weightiness of the bucket and its contents pulled my little skinny self over the fence next to it. The inside of my lower leg from the knee down to the ankle be ripped open on the barbed lead, not to mention I landed within the pee from the bucket. We did not go to the doctor surrounded by those days, so I had to restore to health on my own. Now, 40 years later, I still own a jagged mutilation on my leg like a dotted stripe that will not tan, so it really shows up contained by the summer..........Did I beat your toothpick story?
I woke up at 6:66am this morning, it that bleak?
when i was 15 i be playing kick the can within the dark beside some friends and me being nightblind didn't see the clothesline i be about to run into in good health i ended up running into the dash with my kneck. knock myself out and had to draw from 45 stitch's cuz of it cutting me. afterwards when i was 19 i settled to jump of the train trousle solely to hit a rock and bust my arm.July.
1992.
I was ten years prehistoric, doing the best a ten year old surrounded by suburbia could do on a summer afternoon. It started out as touch football at my friend Paul's house, featuring my friends and me taking on the persona of the marquee NFL stars of the time.
In a series of moves that would manufacture Lynn Swann drop a jaw, I shook an entire defense (which consisted of 3 neighborhood kids) and broke free.
Hands spread, eyes wide-ranging, belting "I'm open!" as if they be the most important words I have ever spoken, I turned with outstretched arms, arranged for the pass.
Jimmy be a little guy, he have a big mouth but anyone who knew Jimmy know he was adjectives bark and no bite. The nouns of defense made Jimmy a great candidate for QB, seeing as he wasn't perfect with confrontation. Furthermore, Jimmy could throw a be set to spiral.
Jimmy heard my telephone and tossed up a sick lob. I threw in a few shakes and stutter steps and adjectives of a sudden found myself wide uncap.
This is it.
At this point in my life it may as in good health be the Super Bowl as I race to take the game champion pass. The bubble in flight, my sneaks pounding the cement, my hand outstretched… All I can focus on is the overwhelming sense of victory that awaits me as I lock in the ball near nothing between me and the storm drain desire line.
My fingertips hum near anticipation as the ball follows its bridle path toward me, and a triumphant smile emerges on my facade only second before the stars and confusion pinch hold.
I wake up contained by a daze to a kaleidoscopic view of my friends and no recollection of recent events.
Later, it would be explained to me that the shifty path near which I broke free of defenders lead me right along the sidelines, which, in our case be the curb.
When planning a residential community, consistency is of the utmost importance.
Some prefer the communication slot cut right into the door. This was not the luggage in my neighborhood. The developers opt against convenience and placed mailboxes away from the house, right on our sidelines.
Luckily, I would walk away beside a broken jaw, 37 stitches, and one bruised ego the daylight Jimmy decided to divert my attention from the looming postage depository in favor of his pigskin vomit.