A tale or two I have...
So bear with me for a bit.

When I was about 13 there was an interesting little game going on during the intervals at school which involved one swinging their school bag hammer throw style and see who could get it the farthest/had the biggest balls. So true to any child I joined in this little excercise to pass the time. My turn came round and I, possessed with some Olympian gold medallist's spirit, preceeded to spin like a dervish. Then I fell on my arse. So I got up, dusted myself off and noticed the huge gaping tear in my trouser leg and went into a semi panic state about how badly my mum was going to beat the crap out of me. Soon after the giggles/panicking died down I was asked if I was alright, and assuming I was I went to check said leg, only to find that the trousers were now glued into place with rather copious amounts of the red stuff. Evetually I got cut out of the buggering things, with a great hole in my shin oozing corn syrup at a fairly constant rate (having congealed blood on your legs for about two hours is rather traumatizing at that age as well) and about a week off school due to having all the mobility of a pogo stick. Still got the scar from it too.

The other happened just after I was born on April Fool's Day, and was told about yesterday in detail. Appearently some guy didn't get the joke that the entire pub my mum and dad were at were in on, and in his anger pulled out a handgun. Que it being knocked flying out his hand and (appearently in slow motion) bouncing off the wall and cracking my old man square in the noggin. This resulted in my mum whipping off her top to try bandage my dad's head, and a stream of wolf whistles shortly there after.

Apologies for length, I didn't mean to ramble that much.
(Speedyjx, Sat 9 Aug 2008, 2:55, 1 reply)

I like the bit
about your mum taking her top off.

Have a click.
(Helixdaunting, Tue 12 Aug 2008, 9:10, closed)