rocks and childishness
was walking along the top of some extremely jagged rocks at school when i was 5 (at school?!? yes. the school of DEATH. no wonder my mum took me out of there). anyway, predictably fell, cut back of my left hand , down my arm, pain, blood, tears. left a thin raised scar that has got SMALLER as the years go by. yet i continued to grow. odd huh.

also the time my foot was cut open. ouch. that was drunken though, so wasn't really too unhappy until blood filled my shoe. wear boots a lot more often now.

sorry for length, 1st post! have been inspired by the b3ta ebay auction to actually join rather than just reading...
(monkeymagiciscool1997, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 23:02, Reply)

My Dad
My Dad has 2 scars where he has had pacemakers put in, one very large scar he got last year when his appendics burst (yes, it actualy burst he spent 6 weeks in hospital) and a very large scar going half way around his body which he got just before new year when he had a large section of his stomach removed and replace with pig parts. He is in a bad mood now because his sicknote expires next week.
I only have a scar from a few years ao when I burnt myself on the oven.
(as1232004, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 22:55, Reply)

where to begin...
I have an S shaped scar covering my entire scalp due to some severely fooked up problem with my skull when i was a very small person (Craniosynstosis). so, skull surgery at a few months old eh? Yes. Twice, they messed it up the first time. twats.
This isnt me, but this is essentially what it looked like, if your squeamish, look the fook away... www.geocities.com/grinch102/6thDayPostOpIncision.JPG

oh, and i have some scars on my upper lip under my nose, from where i was running around wearing naught but a firemans helmet, when i tripped and bounced down my brand new cement garden steps, catching my lip/nose on the last one. That made me think again about running around naked, now i only do it if everything is covered in pillows, and there is a firemans hat available.

nice eh?

N
(NeZ, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 22:36, Reply)

scar on my left index finger
7 years old. trying to peel an apple with a meat cleaver.
blood.
pain.
ouch.
And near that a scar where my dog clawed me a month or so ago because i shouted at him...he's a rescue dog. go figure.
(Sparkypinkguitar, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 22:23, Reply)

The CHEEK of it.
Over at our favourite set of jumps, Us students used to While away the odd afternoon getting caned and jumping moto-X styleee on out Mountian bikes. We ruled.

One day someone had moved the landing ramp to the final "Double" (a meter further on than it used to be) in a set of 6 (not an easy feat.... it was about a ton of earth)

Instead of floating down the landing as per the other 5 jumps in the sequence, I SLAMMED into the back of the landing ramp with the grace of a tumble drier, and found my self hanging in the air on Road-runner style. Gravity won, and I recieved a decent shard of slate under my left kneecap. Small lumps of fat and surprisingly little blood popped out of it as the afternoons' jumping continued.

Following advice i went to casualty... got it stiched (took pics during it) (yes, i'm trying to find them) ....


EDIT: (inset: lump of fat.. pre-cleaning) The needle could have fitted around the circumference of a 2p piece. You can JUST see the tip of it poking out (in the forceps) and in the interests of getting down to the pub faster I opted for no anesthetic. The adrenaline was enough anyway. She thought I was wierd for taking pics as she stitched away... I in turn thought she was crap for loosing the needle in my knee at some point. (and then having to poke around to make the needle's point poke out of me to reveal itself, and THEN having to fish it through with forceps. Bloody amateurs.

BUT.. the most insulting thing.. accident report form stated "fell off bicycle" the sods... they made it seem so... well... childish!!

I now have a cute little scar.

EDIT#2.... regarding the post below.. I didn't know that you could camp in a Whale, and thought that whales tended to be ocean-going.... not a rural creatures. Guess they must be a bit like the Urban Fox, but a little less sneaky. How marvellous!!
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Tue 8 Feb 2005, 22:02, Reply)

camping
I had almost forgotten about this, but when I was in the first or second year of high school a couple of friends and me had a little camping trip in the field next to my house - it's the kind of thing you do in rural whales. Whilst breaking up a pallet (those wooden things that slates come on) with a claw hammer (as you do) i got a tad over zealous and on the 'up swing' hit myself in the top of my head.
Strangely i didn't feel anything but bricked it when i felt somehting wet running down my ear, put my hand to it, and then looking at it by firelight realised that it was blood - this was after a couple of almost hollywood seconds of it slowly coming into focus and my brain registering what it was.
Luckily... my mum's girlfriend of the time was a consultant radiologist and so knew all about head injuries, the one night camping expedition was cut short and i was kept awake by order of my step mum in case i 'went funny' by my welsh friend tellign me anti english jokes which were basically the classic irish joke with the nationalities switched.
Oh yeah, so now i have a rather unimpressive dent in the top of my head.
ah thankyou...
apologies for length and general writing skills
(sextuple rooty, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 21:51, Reply)

Surgeon's handywork
Many years ago I had to have an operation on my heart, which came with a lovely hole in it when I was born, which means I had a nice big scar running from my back, under my right arm to just under my chest. That one is quite inconspicuos. I also had a moleste scar down my chest to the top of my stomach which, with normal child growth and an expanding waist got bigger over the years.

Fast forward to 2 years ago and I needed a bit of a valve replacement in the old ticker so the (French) quack had a look at the old scar and said that after surgery they would tidy it up and make it much neater. So here I sit, scratching the bloody thing as it hasn't stopped itching since the day they cut me open, with a much longer and wider scar, with more scars either side of it (at 1cm intervals all the way down) where the staples that held it together were yanked out. Not only that but the bastards put a six inch scar at the top of my leg and I haven't had any sensation on the skin around the top of my leg since.

Bloody French, still, at least I didn't get MRSA.
(Lord of my Ring, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 21:35, Reply)

2 scars
1)Age 10 bunch of friends out playing.. doing their own thing. One kid throwing a ball down and trying to hit it with an aluminum bat when it jumped back up. Well, I was screwing about on a bike.. rode past him just as he threw the ball down..He ran for it as it jumped back up.. swung.. and caught me in the face.. hard.
All I remember is black and the feeling of my feet hitting pavement and booking it. Turns out I ran about a block.. screaming my head off..About 10 stitches. Nice scar on my right eye brow.
2)age 17? My mom had a new moped and it had a bit of a kick when it first took off. Me being cocky and stupid.. thought I could drive it no problem with out any practice. I was on it for maybe a nano second before karma took hold and slammed me into the pavement. My leg now wedged between the cement and the moped. Pretty scar on my knee too.Never touched that devilish thing again.

apologies for.. whatever
(blahism, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 20:33, Reply)

...
I have a nice scar on my cheek from running into a screen door.

Sorry for the lack of length or content.
(icouldbeahero, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 20:29, Reply)

drunken pole kissing.
My dad is fond of going out for his weekend bevvy with his friends, and getting quite smashed. Often this results in him taking a cab home and stumbling up the path for all the neighbors to see, mumbling to himself.

One night, as my mum and I were awaiting his triumphant return from his watering hole when we hear this dull thud outside. Mom rushes outside, to find my dad sitting on the porch, gathering change he had dropped, and blood gushing from a dented gash in his forehead.

"I think I hit my head," he slurred, picking up quarters.

Mom pulls him inside the house, and makes him hold towels to his head to stop the bleeding. It refuses to stop! I'm having a fit, and my dad is laughing about it. Then he sits on the couch and passes out, despite our efforts to keep him awake... how do you keep a drunken scotsman awake, even if he has a concussion?

When he came to in the morning, he had a very bad headache and told us the story of what happened. He had tripped into the flowerbed, and ran face first into the cement pole by the porch. After that, he fell into the bush by the door, and realized he dropped his change.

He still has a dent, was was picking cement debris out of his head for a week.

Apologies for length.
(megomobile, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 20:06, Reply)

My sister...
When my sister was about 3 or 4 she was sitting at the table and was holding a fork in her hand. She was rocking on her chair and it fell backwards. The fork went into her forehead.
(WaffleMonster, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 19:31, Reply)

scars
i have a massive scar on my knee resulting from me trying to ride a bike (badly). Always late for school daddykins helpfully suggests 'ride your bike u lazy git', so off i toddle large 16 yr old on bike with dodgy chain and flat tire (i didnt really think it through), decided to try and phone my mate whilst riding my bike... in front of the school building.. surrounded by about 40 chavs waiting for the free bus to helpers ed two seconds later, im unconcious, covered in blood from a large wound in my knee. Did anyone try and help me? no only chavs who laughed and my mad english teacher had to put me in her car as my knee was sliced open. Didnt have stiches so now got evil scar like a worm is in my skin.
i make no apologies for lenghth or girth!
( squiddylyd Once you pop you can't stop!, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 19:13, Reply)

utterly stupid
remember pogs? remember how fun it was to compete with your friends to batter the shit out of bits of cardboard with bits of plastic? indeed. well, that is unless you're me as a pyromaniac 10 year-old with too much time on his hands. the slammers, officially called kinis (fuck knows why), looked like the best things in the world to burn. i don't know why, but i thought doing so would improve their effectiveness in the playground battles. so i got myself a box of matches and, wearing shorts at the time, decided to try and melt one into a more effective shape. cue molten plastic dripping on to bare skin. i have now got a nasty scar on my knee.

i'll probably have a lot more scars in the future as i have 12 facial piercings and the intention to pursue a career in teaching, but i'll have to wait and see what the department of education says, eh?
(conkers deep, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 19:08, Reply)

Dead People Arse Rot
Being a medical student, part of our 1st year course was anatomy through disection. This involves cutting up dead people who have been preserved in formaldehyde for over a year. For this lovely task we have to purchase a 'disection kit' which has scalpels and other pokey bits for sticking in orifices. One day, after an anatomy session, i was tidying my very small room in halls which was also occupied by several people playing tekken 3 (as was the style of the time). I sat down on my bed to join in, only to stand up again very swiftly in intense pain.
Yes, i had sat on my disection kit and a scalpel had pierced my buttocks.
To make things all the more glorious, it wasn't a new blade and still had dead people goo and some suspicious grainy bits on it. This all went about an inch and a half into my arse.
It bled.
Much hilarity ensued. I had to get one of my friends to put a stitch in it but, upon the nightly jappery in good ol' Glasgow University Union, I was asked by almost everyone there if my ass was still bleeding. Which it was. I was also asked what it felt to have a dead person's 'bits' enter my arse. Hoorah!
It kind of went a bit funny and pussey after a while but has left me a really rather pathetic inch long scar on my right buttock. I still have the pants i was wearing - they have a little hole where the scalpel took my buttockular virginity. Whoop!
( MrUppity, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 19:05, Reply)

The Joys of Football
This bastard game (I love you really...) has inflicted the following on me (in chronological order):

a) i was the first person in my school to have one of those 'cool' slits in their eyebrows, courtesy of an over-zealous wing back who missed the ball and toe-punted my head...


b) I have a nice variety of scars on my left knee; a combination of conventional surgery and keyhole has left a nice pattern following some nutter's attempt to remove my kneecap from my leg.

Having slid the ball away from him in a tackle, he promptly kicked right across the top of my knee joint; I didn't think too much of it until I noticed my kneecap sitting on the side of my leg rather than the front.

At which point I passed out...

c) A lovely 2" gash on the side of my right ankle. Having spent a season recovering from the above injury, 3 matches into my comeback I went over on my ankle in a tackle. Which wouldn't have been so bad if the guy I was marking hadn't also trodden on it...

The opposition physio wandered over nonchalantly whilst I'm writhing in agony on the ground and politely inquires "was that your ankle I just heard pop?".

He was 50 feet away.


I make no apologies for length. The ladies love it.


ps. I also have 2 matching scars on my forearms from an unfortunate ice-skating incident involving me falling over and some pillock trying to jump over me :)
(adeh, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 18:54, Reply)

and God smiled
After swallowing half of a dirty lake trying to water-ski, I decided to resume the sensible position of spectator.

Some advice: don't go round the back of a speedboat trying to swim with planks of wood on your feet.

I Didn't lose my foot as I'd first feared but do have two nice scars. One on my shin, (checks leg on desk) which missed the bone by about oooh 5mm and feels like there's a chunk missing out of my leg when pressed (funnily enough). The other is a little pathetic one on my ankle which you can hardly see now.
(smellysocks, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 18:29, Reply)

Broke my ankle in a spectacularly boring way...
There I was, walking down the street, fell over, broke my ankle. Heard it snap and everything. Sounded like breaking a piece of celery.

NO I am not 80 with osteoporosis.

Was so embarrassed by this non-injury that I hopped into a taxi, went to work and sat at my desk weeping quietly until my ankle had swelled to elphantitus-like proportions. Finally agreed to let a friend take me to an x-ray place and then to the ER.

Now I am like an 80 year old woman because when it turns damp and cold I really can say "I feel it in my bones", due to the dull ache I get.
(Peelmytangerines, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 18:17, Reply)

Once while at a circus
i was mucking around with a coke can to see if i could split in half. After about a minute i achieved my goal, but at the same time realised the split half is bloody sharp..hence moleste cut on thumb. The circus people had already made it clear that no one was allowed to leave there seats until the end, so i had to sit there, bored as hell, and bleeding away happily for about an hour. Bloody circus...
(Calmallama Is keeping this short and sweet, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 17:52, Reply)

My Scars
I've got a big bent nose which I got playing Hockey. I ran straight through somebody and ended up with it broken. I refused to believe it was broken because I couldn't feel it. I thought it was just a nosebleed. I refused for about an hour then someone showed me a mirror. It was at this point I realised my nose had been made to point off to the left and was very, very not straight. I did manage to get some fish and chips on the way to the hospital though. :)
I've also got a scar on my cheek which I got when I was about 6 and my little sister decided to chase me with scissors to try and cut me on christmas eve. Needless to say I ended up tripping and twatting my face on a concrete step.
My favourite scar however, is the one on the top of my head about an inch behind my hairline. This one was acquired when I was a lot younger and got taken to a castle for the day. I decided that I wanted to go dressed up as a night so I put the required plastic breast plate, sword, and helmet on. When we got to the castle I got out the car and just as The boot was about to be shut realised that my sword was still in it. I rushed forward to grab it and down came the boot onto my head. I still ran around the castle hitting everyone I could with my sword though.
(random_mr_crazy, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 17:47, Reply)

i would imagine my brother has a good one
as he has taken to walking around the house in his pants. anyway, he was stacking the dishwasher,which, when it is open, you have to leap over as there is no other way to get around it. we used to keep all our sharp knieves poking upwards in the cutlery holder, in a way that we now know is very dangerous to do. as my brother is trying to leap over the open dishwasher, he slips, wobbles a bit, goes into a low squat, thrusts his arms forward, and sits on a knife, which goes straight through the flimsy material of his boxers and finds good purchase in his left arse-cheek.

that caused him to straighten up pretty quick.
(Le mango, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 17:42, Reply)

Psycho ex..
*Accidentally* carved an action man style scar across my chest with a key once.. stoopid bint..
(8cidburn, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 17:42, Reply)

Chav Scar
Remember the first time you get really drunk, threw up in a plant pot and your parents didn't talk to you for a week? After this episode they didn't talk to me for a month...

I was 14 and decided that drinking a bottle of cheap vodka rather than the usual white lightning would be a really really good idea. It wasn't.

I remember drinking, I remember making a fool of myself in front of the lad I fancied, though naturally I thought I was being really sophisticated. Then there is a gaping hole in my memory and the next thing I know I am waiting on a corner surrounded by a bunch of very scared looking teens being told not to worry because the ambulance is coming - and I have no idea why!

Apparently I went to sit down on a low fence and fell backwards. When I sat up I was bleeding profusely from the back of my head.

I threw up in the ambulance all over my friends mum (which although it was nice of her to accompany me is actually a good thing because most of the time she was a semi-psychotic prize one bitch.)

When the doctor was stitching my head, my father tells me I kept calling him rubbish (no idea why) and whenever my mother came in to my cubicle I would get very upset and kept saying "Its ok mum at least I'm not doing drugs" (not that night anyway)

So now I am the proud owner of a very large scar on the back of my head, it is rather lumpy and when it gets cold it aches.

My parents were most pissed of though because the police had to get them out of the pub. Not sure if that was because they were embarrassed or because it interupted their drinking...
(MyrtleTheTurtle, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 17:24, Reply)

Tool
I once went to a "foam" party boasting the most asthmatic foam machine the the whole sordid history of foam machines. All it did was make the floor all slippy. I was pissed, I was crazy dancing, I fell over chin first onto an empty bottle of Becks I had just dropped. I bled copiously from my face, and the bar staff very nicely tried to put a plaster on it. I, however, being a bit of a tool and also (as previously mentioned) drunken slurred "I'm a medical student, I can do it my bastard self" and made a total hash of it. But I did look hard with all the blood mingled with foam running down my neck, and I have a nice meaty stubble scar to remind me what a tool I am every time I shave.
(donksta, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 17:19, Reply)

I’ve got two…
1) After having a few beers we all went back to one of my mates houses whose got an outdoor Jacuzzi for a few more. The call of nature, well, called, and I decided to take a leak over the side. Slipped over, took a wine bottle with me which landed first and smashes, I landed on the remains of the bottle knee first. Cue a molestE flap of skin hanging from my knee, and a nice view of bone and gristle. Had to call the ambulance. 33 stitches and 3 days in hospital later I’ve got a nice big scar to remind me of my stupidity.

2) Trying to persuade a girl that I was "the real" satan whilst “tripping” in the local pub – stubbed a cigarette out on the back of my hand – didn’t hurt too much at the time….
(Bertie Dastard Wax on, wax off, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 17:03, Reply)

Childhood Toilet Trauma
When boys are little, we have have those step up things so they can go pee-pee in the grown ups toilet (poor families use the old Yellow Pages).

So, as a three-year-old, I stepped up, slipped, hit my chin on the porcelain and proceeded to bleed everywhere copiously until I was stitched.

Needless to say I tell people that I came off my bike and got this scar, rather than "I fell down the toilet."
(zane, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 16:58, Reply)

3 inch long scar
on my back from falling onto a gypsy wagon made from matchsticks.

Lovingly crafted by my mates dad, took him 6 months to build, and I flattened it in 6 seconds.

Fucking gyppos.
( Scary Mary The D'oh Fairy, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 16:56, Reply)

It's all Flash Gorden's fault you know
Upon witnessing the genius film that is Flash Gorden my brother and I decided to recreate the infamous woodbeast scene utilsing only the cushions from the sofa and our lunatic ginger tomcat. The cushions were set up so that the aforementioned cat was inside and was covered so that there were 5 places in which to stick your hand left. Now, if you touched the back end of the cat you had just enough time to get your hand out before the bastard got you good. Put your hand in by his face and you acquire scars like those running down my fingers, that are still plainly visible nearly 13 years later. This cat has also scarred my upper arms, nearly pulled my Mum's lip off once and used to attack all small children that went near him. I do love him though.





He am ginger.
(Man Worm, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 16:46, Reply)

You're not bleeding
Not me, but my pal Jake.
It was at the end of my friend Meg’s 18th birthday party, and her boring relatives had all sloped off leaving a large group of us young ‘uns to carry on drinking. Which we did until the bar at the rented hall closed.

The party had taken place at a small hamlet halfway between two villages on the South coast of Wales and in the search for more drink we set off towards the nightclub (read: small grotty cellar full of jailbait) in the nearest village. To get to the village involves a walk of a few miles, a portion of which leads along cliff paths and through tunnels with no lights in them.

There are about 3 of these tunnels and when you walk into them you can’t see anything- the other end is several hundred yards away. It is night, and as I’ve already said, there are no lights at all in them.

The lot of us moved slowly, walking three abreast through one of these tunnels. Being drunk, and this not being a common route for us, we’d forgotten that there are random beams in this tunnel. We remembered when Jake walked into one- a very loud and meaty sounding collision in the blackness, followed by:
“Ow.”
“Jake, are you alright?”
“I walked into the post. It’s made of wood.”
Silence.
“I’m bleeding.”
“No you’re not.”
“I am.”
“No you’re not, you’re drunk.”
“I’m bleeding.”
“Shut up, Jake- it’ll just be water running down your face.”
This continued as we walked [staggered] through the tunnel, several people telling Jake that he wasn’t bleeding every time he tried to convince us he was.

Ten minutes later we got out of the tunnel- there was a full moon which has turned virtually everything into monochrome. Everything except the bright ketchup red lines which are running down Jake’s face.
“Holy shit! You’re bleeding!” several people screeched.
“I know.”
We then tried to get him to go to Hospital- the amount of blood all over him looked scary, but he wouldn’t. When we finally arrived at the club it was closing, but they gave us gauze and bandages for his head wound, which we piled on with much enthusiasm.

He woke up the next day with a teeny inch long cut just above his eyebrow. Dissapointment.
(greenycrimson I stole the from pyschotherapist, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 16:40, Reply)

my two scars..
when i was four my older brother was playing tennis (or some bat and ball game) just after we arrived in our villa in france when he "accidently" threw the racket which hit my on my head..blood all the way down my front
now under all that hair i now have is a massive scar very visible 11 years later. cue my dad rushing me off to hospital and annoying loadsa french drivers.
scar number two happened 3 years ago when i was at a friend's house now he has an indoor swimming pool so we go swimming and i jumped in and smashed my head on the steps and me thinking nothing is wrong until my friend shouted that there was blood in the pool.
uh oh. it was not thaaat bad until the next day a was really really ill and they thought it was serious. luckily it was just coincedence and i didnt even get concussion.

my hair hides both scars. the most common question is "was there water in the pool.."
sorry for length
(Bullet with butterfly wings, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 16:37, Reply)

i have a scar that looks like a permanant dent
on my forehead, just above my eyebrow that comes from when i was a baby. basically what happened is my dad stopped watching me, and i rolled off the bed, and landed hard, on my back, on the floor. to stop myself falling, i reached out to grab onto something. i grabbed onto the light cord. and pulled a lamp onto of my squidgy baby skull. we still have the lamp. it weighs.....well i put it on the scales and it said "Err". enough said.

i also have another scar just on my hairline that happened on my 14th birthday. i was out on the field, haveing a wibbly good time, when a snooker ball falls from the sky and lands nicely on my head, making a nice little "tonk!" sound. all of a sudden, i realise i am gushing blood,and all the nurses at shool can do are shove plasters over my eyebrow because that is where i was bleeding from, apparantly...if that was so, my blood was defying gravity and was dribbling UP my face. the next morning i woke up with a swollen head, from where the ball landed so hard.
(Le mango, Tue 8 Feb 2005, 16:22, Reply)