Double whammy
I was helping my little brother cut our lawn, it's a fairly big job as there are plently of obstacles to move (ie birdtable). He had been constantly winding me up that morning, I couldnt escape the torture of his immature remarks - you know the sort.

Anyway, he found a massive pile of dog poo left by my nan's dog, and picked it up using the "shitty shovel" - as it is referred to by my family - thinking he would chuck the poo into a bush. He didnt. He chucked it onto me, and it splattered all over my leg. He immediately breaks down with a fit of laughter, and i can feel the morning's toruture boiling inside of me. I end up attempting to kick him, but he raises his foot up to block the shot. With all of my pent up rage going into that blocked kick, it would have bloody hurt if it had been landed correctly, but being the non-violent type that i am, i've never really had to practise kicking people.

I had to go inside and sit down after this, taking my trousers off obviously. I thought i had broken my toe - i was in agony, while my mum and brother are wetting themselves laughing over my pooey trousers and achy toe.

Weeks later, half of my toenail died, and half was alive. this has led to what i now call "my micheal jackson toe", whereby half of it is white and half is black.

To this day, a year on, i still have a manky toenail, the black bit would still be there except i had it removed by a doctor. it is smaller than the other toenail in comparison, and i'll never forgive my brother.

grr.
( Goon, Sat 20 Aug 2005, 10:53, Reply)