It happened one night
Watching some cheesy action movie. Commando I think. Rambo, maybe - too pissed to really remember. During an ad-break, I went to kitchen to get more beer and make myself a sandwich, and - inspired by the Austrian Oak (or Steroid Sly, whoever it was) - I started waving the kitchen knife around like it was a big special forces combat knife.

I decided to practice my knife throwing, and had a couple of goes. Being pissed, it landed flat side down a couple of times, but on about the sixth go it flew straight as an arrow and embedded itself in the wood of the kitchen steps - YES!!

Elated at my ninja skills(!), I grabbed at the knife to have another go. Unfortunately, I reached out a bit too far, missing the handle and grabbing the blade. Being a kitchen knife, it was sharp, so left a nice clean slice right in the crook of the first knuckle on my right index finger. Ouch. Suddenly, I became more sober.

The cut was clean, so even though it was in an awkard place (you try keeping your index finger crooked at exactly the right angle for a cut made at that same angle to heal neatly) it healed quite quickly.

I imagine I'd have felt a lot worse about it had my lodger been in that night. Next time he was, as far as he was concerned, I'd cut my finger while doing the washing up, rather than in a pissed-up reenactment of musclebound action capers.
( shinyshinyscalp less a man, more a way of life, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 14:56, 1 reply)

Only last week I cut my finger.
I did so while cutting a sausage with the razor-sharp knife my girlfriend's father bought me for christmas. I would be so embarrased if he found out -- I don't claim to be an outdoorsman, but I've "played" with knives all my life, including spinning them in the air and catching them and opening boxes all day with a Stanley knife, so to cut my finger while using a traditional knife to cut a traditional sausage is a little embarassing to say the least.
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Fri 28 Jan 2011, 17:41, closed)