Me, blood from my head, and a nurses tits.
This event must have taken place a good 5 or 6 years ago when I was about 15. Long enough ago for me to attempt stupid things, but too long ago for these things not to be chatting (well, attempting to) up women whilst extremely drunk in the pub. This of course meant we had to find our own fun, and luckily, my friends and I lived near a huge park. This park has been the scene of some of my finest moments, and some of my lowest. This was perhaps my lowest.

It was the summer, it was bloody hot so we were naturally all outside sweating and wondering what to do short of hanging around the playground hoping for a go on the swings (yeah, we hung around in parks but we weren't chavs who would kick young kids out of their swings). All of sudden another one of our friends turned up with one of those big bins with wheels on the bottom. We knew this would be really, really fun.

It started off just sitting in it, perhaps getting pushed around a bit. It then elevated to being pushed down slight gradients but there would always have to be someone pushing. However, there was a really slopey bit between two paths but it was covered in trees, no clear path. Apart from one bit. This was it, this was going to be our finale after a week of being pushed around.

Me and my friend Jay sat down and prepared for a bumpy ride. Of course, by prepared, I mean us each going "Yeah, fuck it. I'll do it!" We were at the top, ready to be pushed, and probably both secretly cacking ourselves. We felt the pushing begin and our descent began. Before I knew it we were at the bottom, it wasn't a long trip but it was steep.

It came to me that my head was hurting and as it normal, went to feel it. Blood. Fuck. I realised that I must have hit my head on the huge metal fucking lock on the inside of the bin that we had all failed to notice throughout the week. I knew I'd have to go to hospital but there was no way I was telling my parents I'd be riding down hills in a bin. The story we agreed on was that I fell over and hit my head on the curb. The problem with this is that the cut was right on the top of my head. Really in the middle. If you put you finger on where you think the middle of your head it, that's where I was bleeding from. This place, as it happens, is the most awkward place to hit when falling over. My dad, who was with us, now in my friend's house mentioned this, but to his grace didn't ask further. He must have known that I didn't fall over but like all good fathers, didn't want to know so didn't ask.

Anyway, so I got to the hospital and I had to have my head glued together. Now this is the best bit, the nurse was really fit and had to lean over me to apply the glue. "Oh hello awesome cleavage" is what I was thinking. I now have a really fat scar on the top of my head, but thanks to my head full of hair, no-one knows. I feel it sometimes and it reminds of simpler times, when I could have fun with nothing but a bin. Though thinking about it, I'd do it again, but this time I might sellotape a pillow to my head.

I hit my head and it bled, that's probably the closest I've come to dying so I consider myself quite lucky. But I have fucked myself up in other ways which I may post later.

Length? A few inches and made of cold, hard steel. I did not enjoy it penetrating me.
(Martin1337 was trying and failing to be funny at, Fri 13 Feb 2009, 0:53, Reply)