If you get to choose between a local or a general anesthetic...
take the general.

I'll never forget my first local.

Lying on my back staring at the ceiling as I had been firmly told "whatever you do, don't look down..."

What surprised me the most was the fact that, although you don't feel pain, you still feel everything else. I distinctly recall the sensation of my own flesh being cut, and the sound of the scissors cutting through it.

So, not exactly "ouch" - just everything but the ouch.
(dxg, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 22:34, Reply)

The specific moment when my son came into the world ..
.. my wife really squeezed my hand very hard.
(spinoza, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 22:29, Reply)

Cycling to work
I hung my rucksack on the handlebars, as I didn't want a sweaty back. Had been fine there for weeks, but as I learned, extra weight on the front of the bike shifts the centre of gravity forward a bit.

So, one morning, pulling over out of the way of a bus (a big double-decker one), in Balham, I clipped the kerb with a pedal, and all of a sudden I was up in the air. I went over the handlebars, clipped my cheek on something, bruised several bits of me, and stopped myself with my hand on the tarmac. I now know why the motorcycle game for the megadrive was called Road Rash - I had a little bit of it on my palm. Blood dripping from my hand, and a little bleeding scrape on my face, I approached the bus, which had stopped in all the action. The doors opened. I asked the driver "Are you alright?".

That seemed to phase him, so he didn't tear a strip off me for shaking up all his passengers, he just nodded and drove off. I cycled on to work, washed my hand from the drinking bottle on the way, and showed my manager, as an explanation of why I was late.
(sabre-tooth monkey, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 22:20, Reply)

Power tools
I can't recall what my most painful experience was but I can tell you that surprisingly it wasn't the time I ran my hand through a table saw. Probably didn't hurt that much because I severed some nerves and still have limited sensation in part of my hand and one finger.
(Tinfoil Hat, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 22:20, 1 reply)

Penis pain...
I got badly assaulted last year and ended up in the Intensive Care Unit for a while. I don't remember too much of the earlier part of my stay in hospital, but I do remember having a urinary catheter inserted.
It was inserted incorrectly and the penis pain certainly took my mind off the other injuries...
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 22:16, Reply)

I bought a mountainboard.
It came with a kite, which meant I could fly the kite and drag myself up and down a big lawn, if I could find one. So I did that, all well and good.

Then I thought, hey, this is like a snowboard, but one I can use in Britain, in the summer! Forgetting completely that I hadn't, and haven't, ever snowboarded, and ignoring that this was about 15 years after my last go on a skateboard, I launched myself down Parliament Hill, on Bank Holiday Monday one August.

Unfortunately, there were some people sat to my left, and my right, so when it was time to slow down, I didn't have many options. I took one foot off the board, and put it on the floor to help me stop. It was the front foot, foolishly, so it was very effective in slowing me down, but not for maintaining the integrity of my ankle. It hurt, a lot.

In short, I took up a dangerous sport in a stupid location with no preparation or transferable skills, and ended up running over my own leg.

My ankle swelled up to the size of a grapefruit overnight. I couldn't put any weight on it for a week, and it took a month to go back down again. If you decide to montainboard, go to a quiet hill, or even a proper centre, and most importantly, don't run yourself over. Never run yourself over, in anything. It hurts.
(sabre-tooth monkey, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 22:13, 2 replies)

More like a prolonged ouch!
Last year I had the unfortunate misfortune of having bowel cancer, which weirdly I found variably easy to deal with. The main ouches I used to have was when not having the greatest veins in the world and having prolonged chemotherapy over 9 months, it was great fun having a nurse laughing at me manically while stabbing me with a needle (sometimes up to 7 times at once) in the hand and then wondering why my hands were black and blue the next time I came in! Oh well anyone who asked I said I had been having fights with bums on the street. oh yeah i was cool...
(Bridgwatered, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 21:52, 3 replies)

Dengue Fever
Dengue fever (wiki it), caught it on Holiday to the West Indies. Disease is pretty much like having malaria with the added bonus of causing massive haemoraging from everywhere. Ever woken up with you eyes, ears, mouth and nose bleeding? I have. Also makes you want to vomit every 15 mins but due to not eating just makes you wretch instead. Cleared up after 2 weeks but left me with no energy and feeling tired for a month. Lost 2 stone in weight.

and to compound matters the goverment denies the disease existed in their country, so i had to be treated for a disease that "presented all the symptoms of and should be treated like dengue" but it couldn't be reported as such, beaurocracy eh?
(redman89, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 21:42, 3 replies)

Very Young
When I was a young boy in the earliest bit of (a middle school pupil) pubescence I was a good footballer at my school.

I had slid in to tackle someone much larger from our local high school and he kicked my thigh and forced his boot studs into my scrotum.

After much pain, and nineteen years later, my partner (as of a few months ago, wife (a fact for which I am *very* grateful)), on our first night together, asks "what the..." when looking at the scarring and our first night of passion was reduced to her sitting on the bed laughing at me.

Scrotum? Fail.
(JohntheDane, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 21:15, Reply)

Downstairs ouch, and gratitude
When I was at uni, doing what students do, or certainly used to, I had loads of booze and combined that with a sizeable number of jazz cigarettes.

In my less than sober state, I incredibly managed to secure the affections of a young lady. This was turning out to be the greatest night ever...! We stumbled back to her place (eventually), and both got nekkid on her bed. At this point the large amounts of drugs we had taken took control, and despite the fact that we were both ready for naughtiness, we had no option but to collapse on her bed and fall into a very deep sleep.

I woke up first, and noticed a small problem. Rememeber that I said we were ready to be naughty? Well I was still ready, in that I had fallen asleep with my foreskin down, only now I found that my purple helmet was bigger and purplier (neologism) than ever before. To the extent that it was so full of blood I was unable to pull my foreskin back over it... I skedaddled pretty sharpish and let myself out before the long, painful walk home.

Now as a man, I decided to follow the man's rule of health - not to worry about it until it's deadly serious, and let my body sort itself out - because it can't take long until normal service is resumed, surely? After three days it had not sorted itself out, and I had to walk like Chon Wang, so I went to see the doctor. The noble doctor managed to control his giggles (or at least I didn't read about it in last week's QotW), and referred me to Casualty. There I had the great pleasure of standing in a cubicle with my legs wide apart as a junior doctor took the next step in his education: pulling my foreskin back with rubber gloves and tonnes of vaseline. I wasn't given a stick to bite on (17th century surgery had at least one thing right), but managed to stop myself from screaming in pain as my soldier had his helmet restored at great painful length.

No lasting damage was done, and I am eternally grateful to the good people of the LGI for their patience and not openly laughing in my face. Remember kids, sometimes after overindulging it is often better to leave the sexytimes until the next morning, and gentlemen, never fall asleep without restoring your body to its intended state....

Length? Well it's now in perfect working order and this has been scientifically tested in the appropriate environments.
(Elephantine Galoot is on the M62 heading east at, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 21:14, Reply)

All four wisdom teeth extracted under GA
Including one of them smashed into 4 pieces with a chisel by the surgeon and followed by dry sockets in both sides of the lower jaw.

Ouch really does not come close.

If any of you ever has to get it done - for fuck's sake read this:

www.b3ta.com/questions/toptips/post414255

Sadly I had my experience before this post existed. It is frighteningly accurate. The Carrot knows his stuff (thanks mate).
( TheFinch is getting to grips with the complex plane on, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 21:06, 7 replies)

Age 10 and going on the dodgems for the first time
I was entirely unprepared.

As the car autostarted as soon I put my token in, it shot off across the ring. and straight into the crash barrier. Me, sans seat belt (having not noticed it or been told about it) went face first into the steering wheel smashing my two front teeth into little bits.

My Dad rushed over after seeing this, and got me out of the car, tearing my t shirt off to shove into my mouth and staunch the blood, meanwhile a carny wonders over to ask 'is ee alright then mate?'

Being taken off to operator recommended emergency dentist was the next port of call. "Hmm" says he "I'll temporarily cap them until the swellings died down and you can get them done properly. Unfortunately I can't use any anaesthetic as would complicate the procedure and theres already too much trauma" or some other bollocks excuse. So having plastic heated up, melted and molded to my exposed nerves kept me entertained for the next hour. I say entertained, I mean absolute fucking agony.

Luckily 8 years later I got 2grand from it after the fair admitted liability!

Unrelated, but I saw video with some mountain bikers being interviewed and dicsussing injuries. One of them pointed to a nasty looking scar on the back of his neck, and when asked how it happened (odd place for a scar) described how, crashing into a tree at speed, a branch went straight through his full face helmet, into his mouth, and out the back of his neck. Fucking ouch! I felt I got off lightly with a few broken teeth.
( LemonEntryMyDearWatson This time, Moriarty, the hand is on the other foot, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 21:05, Reply)

Man from Atlantis. Oh yeah...
When I was about nine, and my Dad was between jobs abroad, he did a stint at the local holiday camp. One of the perks was that family members could use the facilities as they pleased, and for free, so one Sunday he took me and my sister to the site, and we went swimming.

The pool was legendary within the town, for, unlike the municipal pool, this one wasn't shaped like a mushroom, and had a diving board. Olympic stuff or what, huh? Pretty damned exotic for a small market town near the Scottish border rhyming with Eric. Being near the start of the season, the pool was fairly deserted apart from a quite large bloke using the diving board, and as a result, we had the pool pretty much to ourselves.

Being young, and with delusions of Man from Atlantis grandeur, I decided to see how far I could swim underwater. Much to my surprise, after a couple of practice lengths, I managed to get most of the distance of the 20 metre pool, although, due to the liberal dose of chlorine the attendants insisted on using, I couldn't keep my eyes open underwater and didn't have any goggles with me.

Unfortunately, due to being unable to see where my fish-like skills were taking me, I surfaced, spluttering for air and rubbing my eyes to get the chlorine away from them, right under the diving board...

Being clattered on the head by a diving board as you pop to the surface like a cork, just at the moment a fat bloke in speedos decides to try an epic dive of gusset-soaking proportions is not something I'd recommend in a hurry.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 29 Jul 2010, 21:01, Reply)

2 in a row. (almost)
There was also the time I was on holiday at my nans in Wales, was jumping up and down on my neighbours sofa. Thought it would be great to dive off and landed forehead first into the lip of her tiled fireplace.

The lump was the size of a tennis ball and I was in hospital overnight.
( Maffers I flow kinda strange like Spina Bifida footprints, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 21:01, Reply)

Floats like a bee, stings like a right wanker
Enjoying my birthday by queueing for the toilet at a music festival in the US of America, I was stang off of a bee, right on the tip of my index finger. No humble bumblebee was he, this was a big ol’ American Apoidea Bastardus, like the one who takes over as mayor in ‘Family Guy’. It hurt a lot, like someone pressing a lit cigarette to my fingertip. ‘Look at this!’ I exclaimed to my friend, and we both marvelled at the pulsating venom sac, clearly visible as it pumped poison into my swelling digit like a set of demonically possessed Polly Pocket bagpipes. Oh, did I mention that, being so cool, I was under the influence of hallucinogenic substance LSD at the time? Yeah, cheers counterculture, that was a big help. Hearing us slowly coming to terms with this momentous event, the guy in front of us in the queue turned around and pulled out a big fucking knife. ‘Looks like we’d better operate,’ he said, waving the big fucking knife under my petrified nose. ‘Maybe,’ he grinned, ‘WE BETTER AMPUTATE!’ It didn’t help he was wearing mirror shades, so all I could see were reflections of my own terrified face and the glare of his ludicrous knifeblade. Honestly, it was like something Rambo would do the topiary with. Then, while I was paralysed by fear, the guy took hold of my hand and sliced the sting right out of my finger with his big fucking Rambo’s landscaping knife. I have to say he did a great job – the pain stopped almost immediately and there was very little bleeding. My mystery field surgeon went for a piss straight after that, so I didn’t get the chance to thank him properly, but the experience scared me straight, and I took a vow that day to never again get stung by a bee, a promise I have kept – even through the hard times – to this very day (although I have been stung by wasps two or three times, but everyone gets stung by wasps so that’s ok).
(electricteeth, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 21:01, 1 reply)

NTL owe me...
After moving into our new house, we arranged for NTL to come and 'hook us up, baby'.

Being the kind and considerate customr that I am, I decided to move some panes of glass that were in the way of the cable run, so that the Engineers wouldn't hurt themselves.

You know what's coming; I slipped and sliced the back of my hand open, and took a trip to casualty where the Nurse insisted on showing me the tendons in my hand moving through the wound, before she stitched me up.

I would make a rubbish Doctor *retch*
(jono_h, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 20:59, 1 reply)

After geting my Appendix out I was on an IV for fluids as I wasn't allowed to eat or drink for two days after.
I had to have the needle moved from my left hand to the back of my right hand for some reason, then once I was off the fluids they left the needle in but told me they would be back later to remove it.

A while later (I'm a bit fuzzy over times as it was a while back and time seemed to stretch on forever stuck in that ward) the back of my hand started to hurt a bit. I asked a nurse if she could remove the needle as I was off fluids and it was hurting. "No problem" she replies, I'll be right back.

3 hours later and there is still no sign of her and my hand feels like it's being crushed in a vice. I spot another nurse and she agrees to remove it. She nips out and comes back with cotton wool and stuff to clean my hand. She told me it might hurt when she removed it but once she pulled it out the fucking pain was excruciating! I fell to my knees (bear in mind I'd just had my appendix out) and wailed. The back of my hand instantly turned black and blue and I'm not ashamed to say I cried.

The nurse couldn't have been more lovely, she could see it really hurt so she helped me back over to my bed (between the operation and my hand I was a big wobbly mess) and got me to hold cotton wool over the hole in my hand while she organised a plaster.

The back of my hand was black and blue for a fortnight.
( Maffers I flow kinda strange like Spina Bifida footprints, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 20:59, Reply)

I was told this tale last night, by my dear friend Katie.
Katies sister in law has just given birth, last weekend in fact, to a beautiful baby girl. During a delightful evening of beer and telly, Katie told us the tale of visiting her newborn Neice and the proud new Mum and Dad in hospital, just after she got squeezed out into the world.

This kid was 3 weeks late. As you can imagine, it was hefty. Katie delighted in telling us that the sheer size of the kid, and the force of her last push, meant the baby literally shot out of the womb, nearly flying out the midwifes hands. This caused the woman to split in two (quite literally), meaning she had to have incredibly painful stitches in places no man should ever go with a needle.

Yeah, yeah, I hear you say. Every mother goes through that. And I appreciate this is true. However what made the story was this.

Katie gently approached her sister-in-law after the birth, approaching with great caution (as everyone should approach a woman who has gone through that ordeal), she softly asked "how was it?" Expecting a tearful account of pain but beauty, and an experience so heartwarmingly moving, she prepared herself for mushiness.

"It felt like a house fell on me."

Ouch...
( SugarSpunSister Yeah, whatever, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 20:45, 1 reply)

my history of 'ouch'
Age 9 - Scrotum ripped sliding off the roof of a ford Anglia estate, moderate to severe, but happy as I could have lost my balls. Humiliating pain as my mum was a sister in A&E and oversaw the stitching.

Age 13 – 2nd degree sunburn on shoulders and arms on first holiday to Mallorca agony and huge blisters

Age 18 -2 x Pneumothorax, first partial collapse, then total. You think your going to die through not being able to breathe, Its not that painful it still hurts like fuck but you think your on your way out. Subsequent pleurectomy op to stick the lung to the chest wall – extreme pain post op then from physiotherapy over a period of several months

Age 25 -Left thumb crushed and flesh peeled like a banana in a scaffolding accident, severe for several hours. As I was fitting windows 9 floors up it took 20 minutes to get down in the scaffolding cradle all the while in complete agony. Thumb was saved as I was wearing leather gloves and it kept it together.

Age 31 - Abscess in bone above front teeth, local anaesthetic then drilled the bone to remove - absolutely off the fucking scale for several hours, severe for several weeks while industrial strength antibiotics kicked in.

Age 42 –Diverticulitis – severe to absolutely off the scale – add a migraine and a chippy Irish fucking matron ‘encouraging’ me to sit up and tell me it’s not so bad’ I subsequently projectile vomited over her, the bed and the cleaner sent in to wipe up the green stuff. Was reminiscent of the exorcist. About a month, like a bell curve of pain severe -excruciating - severe - moderate then gone.

Age 44 – MRSA infected scrotum following vasectomy, swelling and severe pain, unable to walk for 6 days, took 4 months to get back to normal working order.

Best drugs? Morphine every time apart from the diverticulitis as it effects the bowel, Ketamine and gabapentin adequate substitutes.
(nimrodihnio making gravy for one., Thu 29 Jul 2010, 20:22, 6 replies)

painful giggles
Sitting here reading QOTW and wincing at all the painful stories. I am however also giggling and snorting at the pain felt by others. Having some quite bad aches from a back injury that leads to cramping the inappropriate guilty laughter at other peoples pain stories is leaving me in painful contortions.
(Singularity was tiny but amazingly dense on, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 20:17, 2 replies)

Not me, but...
My best friend Stephanie has had chronic problems with one of her ankles since she broke it in a car accident. She has had several surgeries. The last surgery she had coincided with bringing home a rescue Norwegian forest cat. This is a story about them being in pain together.

The cat had been hit by a car and left for dead in front of her house. Stephanie brought the cat in to an emergency vet, and ended up adopting him after his owners failed to claim him. He lost a leg, which is a fairly invasive surgery - the vet actually removed the whole shoulder blade as well.

After she brought him home, they made a great pair: Stephanie limping on crutches and "Frankenstein" the tripod hobble-horsing around with giant stitches.

What Stephanie didn't know is that when Frank gets really excited, and really loves someone, he does a trick where he tries to jump in their arms. He did this three days after she brought him home. She was scared he would rip his stitches, so she dropped her crutches and tried to catch him. He weighs 25 pounds even without the leg, and he has sleek and slippery fur which makes him hard to get a grip on. Stephanie tumbled ass over tea kettle while Frank used her body to cushion his fall. He then tottered away as if nothing had happened.

After my first run-in with his jumping trick, my friend related this story to me-- except with 300% more expletives (the phrase "that fucking cat" might have been thrown around a bit) and accusatory pointing at this smug face:

(Exempt OH WOW, VICODIN, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 20:14, 3 replies)

Happy Sack
Overnight I had a small cyst grow into large one in the whole gooch/happysack area.

It involved a quck trip to A&E and 2 days inside and some lovely surgical pants. Memories which will undoubtedly remain for many years to come

I think the worst bit was the doctor lovingly grabbing a handfull of ball, squezing for dear life and enjoying the fact that when I finally calmed down "good news!!!! its not attached to the testicle, you can keep it!!" thankyou Dr.....

First post be kind!
(lordwhorewhore, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 20:12, 2 replies)

It's taken over two years
And a doctor roughly shoving his finger up my bottom, followed by a colonoscopy, approximately 30 blood tests, a lumbar puncture administered by a moron that involved being poked with a bloody long needle in the spine 7 times and irritating the nerves in both of my legs, a couple of EMGs which involve sticking several long needles in various muscles while you flex them and some ECGs which are like having a TENS machine turned up to 11 to work out the nerve pain I have in one side of my body.

And they still don't know what's wrong with me.

Length? 647 days and counting.
(Chicken Little This signature has been left blank., Thu 29 Jul 2010, 20:04, Reply)

Thumbnail...
Me and the GF were messing around at her place, chasing each other about etc. At some point she gave me a bit of a shove and I put my hand out to stop myself falling. My hand hit the doorframe and somehow a massive chunk of wood went right under my thumbnail, then broke off.

There was no way I could pull the chunk of wood out as it had broken off too deep. We went round my GF's mums house and I was given two options -

1. Go and wait up A&E for a few hours
2. Do what they're pretty much going to do anyway and take a sterilised knife to cut away part of your nail to remove the chunk of wood.

So I took option number 2. I sat and cut away over half of my thumbnail and got the chunk of wood out.

Took a while to grow back properly.
(ponty, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 19:59, Reply)

I can see that this week is going to involve me cringing and weeping a lot.
Scabies. Ball torsion. Gut ulcers! This is absolutely horrific, and I'm already crying inside. That's the real pain! That's the real suffering! FFS people, with your medical injuries and surgical procedures and other horrific infestations, haven't you thought about what I'm going through here??
(Falstaff's Spiritual Successor, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 19:45, Reply)

Testicular Torsion
Lads, if you haven't had it, you might be in for a real treat one day, so picture this - one, or both, of your balls managed to rotate around its axis, slowly cutting off its own blood supply and strangling itself halfway to death. Now imagine that it did this on and off for a month until one day it stopped doing a half-arsed job of it and went for the full turn, wrenching the pain dial up to 11. Once diagnosed you have about a six hour window to have surgery before your testicle(s) start to die inside you taking all (or half!) your swimmers along with it / them.

That was quite bad. Though I have to say the recovery was also not pleasant, and the repeat operation three years later for an infection grown into the original site was about the least comfortable thing to endure to date, worse than a broken radius or the aftermath of four teeth being pulled.
(zenmeban thinks the weather could be better, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 19:38, 1 reply)

I'm not going to go into the story
Two words should be enough.

Kidney stones.
( jim_bob can herd cats., Thu 29 Jul 2010, 19:34, 4 replies)

I was late for class once at school
so I ran at full speed up to the top floor, flung the doors at the end of the corridor open and - they swung back with such force I had no time to let go and they connected bonecrushingly with the wall. I ended up curled in a ball around my hand unable to breathe with the pain and was found by a nervous first year who called the nurse.

Painful, but why the worst?

The most excruciating part was being accused by my mother of subconsciously deliberately mangling my own hand so that then I wouldn't be able to take notes in class so that I could fulfill my need to see myself fail as part of my fear of achievement.

I should've burnt all her 'self-help' books :(
( Hampster Squared has stuff at www.tilla.co.uk, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 19:30, 1 reply)

Crohns
Crohn's disease and colitis cause severe ulceration of the colon which causes the intestines to go on strike and cause a very severe and immodium-proof case of the shits (bristol scale #7) that can only be curtailed with the use of corticosteroids. But we're not here to chat about shit, and unfortunately IBD isn't just about an incurable case of the bad beer runs.
As anyone who has had a mouth ulcer will testify, any movement or anything touching the affected area will cause a very serious pain. If your colon has ulcers all over it it feels as though you're pregnant with a baby made of knives and battery acid. Anything passing through, be it wind or fecal matter causes a pain so bad it stops you in your tracks and almost makes you drop to your knees, and you would if it wasn't the case that you had to make a dash for the smallest room very quickly.
After around five weeks of this, severe weight loss and half your friends thinking you've taken to smoking crack, the NHS gives you the chance to go for the dreaded camera. Or as chtonic would say, the long bendy jaws on the end thingy.
If you ever get to see what your intestines look like, well for christ's sake, make sure you take someone with you, because otherwise they don't let you get sedated, and what they don't tell you is that for the camera to be able to take accurate pics of knackered intestinal wall they have to fill you full of air. This means every last bit of ulcerated colon is all stretched at once, for around fifteen minutes.
I thought I was going to die. I couldn't speak, I could barely breathe properly, the heart bleep device was all over the place. It is without doubt the most painful thing I have ever had to endure, ever.

Credit where its due, this was the zenith before I was prescribed corticosteroids and set on the path to remission, and nowadays through a combination of asacol tablets and some immunosuppressants they give to liver transplant patients (our local plumber, who is on his second liver said "Fuckinell, I'm on those, they stop me shitting me liver out") I am able to live something resembling a normal working life, touch wood.

But FFS if you ever have to go for a flexible sigmoidoscopy, TAKE SOMEBODY WITH YOU.

Length? a metre and a half second time round. I made sure i was heavily sedated for that one.
(Sawdustman now with added giro. again, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 19:26, 2 replies)

If you've been injured in an accident that wasnt your fault....
Except it was my fault.

On 3 separate occasions i have come off a ladder at work (now now) because i didnt tie it off at the top/secure the feet/have the correct gradient.

I finally learnt my lesson when the ladder fell like you see in the ads, but didnt lie completely flat, and instead got caught on a box high enough so that my free-falling body could fall through the aluminium rungs of pain.

The length of my shin scraped all the way down the edge of the ladder.

I cried.

Everyone else just laughed and im sure somebody threw a screwdriver at me.
(Frample Tromwibbler climbs an obstacle like old people fuck, Thu 29 Jul 2010, 19:22, Reply)