nearly died you say?
after havin a few beers prior to goin clubbin a bunch of us decide to see who can leave their footprint highest on the pristine white wall of the pub. Suffice to day that being the clumsy one i landed and knackered my ankle. No problem thinks me, i can still go out, I'll just have to get pissed enough not to notice the pain. Cracking night ensues, and I come to in the morning lying on the sofa at home in agony, smoke a few bongs and the pain goes away. Mate comes in and screams and asks where the blood is from, cue me looking at him quizically. Upon being dragged to a mirror notice there's a fuck off huge gash where my eyebrow used to be and blood all over my face which he helpfully pointed out might be due to the bike at the bottom of the stairs havin its handlebars twisted round where my face had, unbeknownst to me in my alcoholic daze, smashed into them after falling down the stairs in the middle of the night. Couple of centimetres lower and they would have found me impaled through the eye on the handlebars in the morning. Nice!! No Lights or tunnels just piecing together the evidence afterwards and realising how lucky I was
(stuwads, Mon 29 Nov 2004, 5:36, Reply)