Only recently
I had a mishap while rolling home from a mate's house (hence the current sig). Basically managed to land in some broken glass.

Fuck it I thought, and I soldiered on home. It was raining and I was pretty much soaked. I knew vaguely that I'd cut myself, but I had no idea how badly until I got home.

Took my t-shirt off and a scene out of Alien was present. Large chunks of semicoagulated evil dropped down my chest, followed in no short order by a gushet of blood that turned my geek-pallored chest a disturbing red colour in no short order.

Anyhoo, ambulance was called and I was bundled into the local Hospital. Had an operation to stitch the flapping hole in my neck together. Woke up the next day with a head full of bad karma and unicorn sick.

Finally got home and saw the damage I'd done to the house when I'd examined myself. There was a veritable pool of blood in front of the sink where I'd stood after taking my shirt off, there were smears and stripes of blood down the walls where I'd stumbled about; there was blood all over the lino, blood down the stairs; blood fucking every where. Took me hours to clean it up.

As I jokingly remarked down the pub the following weekend, it looked just like the time I'd murdered that prostitute. This got a cheap laugh which turned to looks of horror when I pulled out the polaroids for comparison*.

* this part may not be strictly true. I'm admitting nothing here, copper.
(_(_(_(_(_(_(_(_(_ =o.o=, Thu 7 Aug 2008, 18:09, Reply)