Missing body parts
Now there are some bits of your body you don't mind losing - my dad's just got rid of a kidney stone, my own tonsils once tried to asphyxiate me, and nobody wants warts.
Other bits are more useful - a family friend recently lost an arm... which would be OK if his job wasn't managing dis-armament talks.
What have you lost, and where did you leave it?
( , Thu 1 Jun 2006, 18:22)
Now there are some bits of your body you don't mind losing - my dad's just got rid of a kidney stone, my own tonsils once tried to asphyxiate me, and nobody wants warts.
Other bits are more useful - a family friend recently lost an arm... which would be OK if his job wasn't managing dis-armament talks.
What have you lost, and where did you leave it?
( , Thu 1 Jun 2006, 18:22)
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OOoh
When I was about 14, we had an art assignment, to draw a crushed can. But they didn't want any old ordinary can, no, they wanted something interesting. Cue dad giving me an empty soup can... So I go out to the garage with my hammer "Wait up and I'll get a piece of wood to put over the top so you can crush it properly". "Screw this" thinks I, and proceeds to whack the can right on the lid. The next thing I know there's a loud clang from the back of the garage, where the soup can has just landed. Still undented. There is, however, a big gash out of my right finger. Five fucking hours waiting in A&E Tonbridge Wells and I get a bloody dressing. That's it. No sterilisation, no stitches, a fucking dressing. I managed to read half of the first LOTR book while I was waiting. Bloody NHS.
( , Thu 1 Jun 2006, 20:42, Reply)
When I was about 14, we had an art assignment, to draw a crushed can. But they didn't want any old ordinary can, no, they wanted something interesting. Cue dad giving me an empty soup can... So I go out to the garage with my hammer "Wait up and I'll get a piece of wood to put over the top so you can crush it properly". "Screw this" thinks I, and proceeds to whack the can right on the lid. The next thing I know there's a loud clang from the back of the garage, where the soup can has just landed. Still undented. There is, however, a big gash out of my right finger. Five fucking hours waiting in A&E Tonbridge Wells and I get a bloody dressing. That's it. No sterilisation, no stitches, a fucking dressing. I managed to read half of the first LOTR book while I was waiting. Bloody NHS.
( , Thu 1 Jun 2006, 20:42, Reply)
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