The Pooflake scar…

I can’t believe it’s taken me until Wednesday to think of this…

(Maybe it’s because I’m not a big fan of reposts…but because I can’t really be arsed to paw through all my old wank to find the original, I’ll rewrite it in this fashion.)

There is a tradition in my family. (Tenuous link to ‘ritual’ but you get the idea)…

All male Pooflakes…whilst trudging mundanely through our accursed and increasingly pointless existences…will eventually accumulate a scar under the chin.

My Dad got his in the merchant navy by falling on some piece of big-fucking-boat sailing equipment

My Uncle got his in a knife-fight.

Even my son has one! He got his by falling onto a jagged rock in the garden

My brother got his falling through a plate glass window.

(Come to think of it, most of the Pooflake scars have occurred due to falling either through, or on to something)…

And Me?......well…I don’t have one.

Because I properly cocked-up my big chance.

I was seven years old…and still reeling from the combined shock of Thatcher snatching away our milk; and discovering that Vader was Luke’s father.

Yet through that otherwise carefree sobriety, I waddled mischievously, and with a cheery but bellowing noise through every school day…insolently learning the life-skills of underachievement and corner-cutting that have faired me so well in my now morbidly humdrum dotage.

In those days in our class, the child who had been best behaved all damn day was allowed to leave for home 5 minutes early.

‘Woo!’ you’d think. Suffice to say…it was never me…with one exception.

One sparkling summer’s day, when either in an act of teacher / pupil charity, the law of averages, or a particularly stealthy day of undetected criminal activity by myself, I was finally allowed those precious moments of bonus getaway time.

Elated by beating the odds and getting chosen, I was at a loss at what to do with this fragrant pool of opportunity. Sure, I could go straight home…but that would just be boring as dogshit in a brown bowl.

So with the spirit of ‘Carpe Diem’, I thought I would make the most of this once-in-a-lifetime chance by throwing my parka jacket down on the floor tiles and proceeding to skid up and down the changing room like the veritable clappers on a wrap of whizz and a gallon of Red Bull.

Unsurprisingly, the ‘throwing the parka down’ bit went without a hitch.

It was only at the ‘take a run up, then sprint towards the parka, leap in the air, plant your feet firmly down on said parka and let inertia take it’s course’ part of my diabolical scheme that I suddenly became aware of certain miscalculations…

The parka simply slid backwards underneath me, whipping my legs from under me, and sending my face on a ‘one-way-express-ticket-to-Tile-Town’.

So there I was…plummeting head chin-first towards the cold hard tiles in such a way that the velocity alone would have definitely caused the appropriate tearing of skin tissue…

‘This is it!’ I thought to myself. ‘Pooflake scar, here I come!’

Only fate, fuckwittery and faulty facial muscles decided to step in to wrench away my mongatoid birthright…

…And in some sort of involuntary spasm I suddenly jutted the top row of my teeth out like a 7 year old male impersonator of Janet Street-Porter.

Quite soon after hitting the ground…fragments of my mouth decided it would be a splendid idea to obliterate before scattering themselves over a wide area, I was left rolling around on the floor, sobbing like a girlie and clinging to my bloodsoaked chompers

Eventually, the other children and the teacher wandered out from the classroom into what looked like an out-take from ‘the Coventry Chainsaw Massacre’.

Once the teacher had recovered from her subsequent panic attack, she called my folks, collected the pieces of my shattered mouth and gave them to me in a tissue for the tooth fairy…

Still…I think I ended up getting about 20p…so it wasn’t all bad :)
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Wed 26 Nov 2008, 9:26, 8 replies)

Yes!
‘one-way-express-ticket-to-Tile-Town’ Brilliant.

*click

The first one in this QOTW that has really made me laugh!
(The Kwyjibo A big, dumb, balding North American ape., Wed 26 Nov 2008, 10:41, closed)

Seconded

( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Wed 26 Nov 2008, 10:46, closed)

Thirded
click!
(rosie-pie, Wed 26 Nov 2008, 13:51, closed)

Excellent.
Very good and extremely clickable. Incidentally I might be your brother as I have a scar on my chin as the result of unsupervised 'waterslide antics'.
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Wed 26 Nov 2008, 11:02, closed)

No chin scar? You have have mine
I have cut my chin open twice - in exactly the same place, so there's only one scar!

Firstly when I was 4 years old, I fell off a chair onto the kitchen floor.

Secondly when I was 20, I was riding my bike in the dark and the front wheel hit a brick. I came flying off, and landed on the 16-year-old scar.
(EuroSong I love horse meat: best of all the animals, Wed 26 Nov 2008, 11:07, closed)

ha ha ha
I loved sliding on my coat almost as much as racing about with a hooded cape and receiving pittence for your teeth - Joy! - can I be a kid again?
( @><|= w0nu!) or cunt to my friends, Wed 26 Nov 2008, 14:15, closed)

I've got the dreaded chin scar
I tripped and chinned a radiator when I was a kid and had to go to hospital. Got a certificate for being brave though! Also got a slight Harry Potter scar across the forehead where I fell off a windowsill.

I was a clumsy child.
(missc, Wed 26 Nov 2008, 18:11, closed)

good friend of mine
Got a fab chin scar, a year or so back, from riding on of those very modern aluminium scooter things. He thought the hill outside his house would be fun, so buit up some speed, decided it was too fast, and took The Big Step, the one that has the legs rotating a full 360 around the hip socket, exactly once per leg, followed by an olympic standard faceplant onto the tarmac.

He's 47.
(micky2shoes has more shoes than feet, Thu 27 Nov 2008, 13:15, closed)