dog bite
Once when I was 9, I was helping a friend feed her newly adopted stray hound. He lunged, she retreated, I got my face mauled. I was lucky he landed on top of me as if I had been able to pull away, I would have lost half my face. As it was, I got 84 stiches from eyebrow to cheek. YAY!
( b2 I'm not really here..., Fri 4 Feb 2005, 14:13, Reply)

little scar on my forehead
from when i was three years old and went into my neighbour's field to 'pet the nice horsey' unfortunatly i approached it from the back and quite rightly so it kicked me in the head. i remember going to my nanas and they were like 'oh it's just a scratch' then when my dad took me home my mom took one look and took me to hospital. then i remember the doctor going 'i'm about to put some stitches in your head, please don't scream' ....so i screamed. The next day i went back into the field and molestged the horse...maybe this is why i'm not quite right now.
(Sparkypinkguitar, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 14:11, Reply)

Todger
I have a scar on the end of my manhood. I had to have a biopsy for a (non-STD!) skin problem last year. There were stitches and, inevitably, scarring.

The oddest part was having to apply some very strong local anaesthetic an hour beforehand and then walking to the hospital. Those of you with the relevant equipment should try it. A numb todger makes you feel like you are not wearing a single thing below the waist. I had to keep checking that I wasn't giving the world a free show.

So, not much of a story, definitely NO picture and very few witnesses. Even my boyfriend hasn't seen the scar properly as he's short-sighted.
(BearWithLittleBrain, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 14:06, Reply)

i dont have many scars, due to my uncanny abilty to heal well
although i can tell you where they used to be:

1 on my thumb, where i accidentally cut myself rather deep while doing the washing up at work ( a restaurant). i got sent home,a nd the tight fuckers even docked my wages

1 on my left hand (still visible) from when i was doing the washing up at home. i was cleaning my beer glasses when one decided to break, and left a 1cm by 0.5cm gash between my little and ring ringers, which is in a similar place to...

1 on my left foot (still visible), where i had several operations to correct the gammy toe i was born with (the little toe pushed its neighbour underneath my 'middle' toe, resulting in what could only be described as 'beadle toe'

i also have a scare on my chin from where i fell off a chair as a wee lad of 4.

every other scar ive had has healed up perfectly, including the ones where:

• i fell out of a tree, hitting 3 branches on the way down
• i fell backwards of a swing while drunk. cut the skin on my lower spine quite badly, and to this day have reduced sensitivity there
• fell from my skateboard in a carpark, while being towed by my mates renault 5 at 30mph

and various UDIs i picked up during my younger drinking years
( lo, the Greebo Warrior - Est. 2002, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 14:05, Reply)

Atomboy
That'll be Van Gogh, not Picasso.

It's easy to tell the difference - Picasso was the one who was able to wear sunglasses.
(Ian Maiden, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 14:03, Reply)

an ex girlfriend
My ex girlfriend had the biggest coolest scar in the world, she had scoliosis and had an operation to correct it with a big titanium rod. the scar was about 9 inches long and really fooking hard. i used to tickle it to make her giggle.....you know..sometimes i miss her.....


*goes off to cry*
( Ryan T Who are the brain police?, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 14:00, Reply)

Cartoon
You know how in Tom and Jerry when Tom stands on the the rake and it flips up and knocks him flat out?

It works, and it bloody hurts too.

(Scar is in form of slight dent in middle of forehead)
(Captain Skippy pooed in a bag and left it on your doorstep, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:58, Reply)

ooh, goody, I'm a mess of scar tissue, me
On my forehead, just on the hairline (well, slightly below it now, but that's the ravages of time for you), smack in the centre*, is a nice little scar that still, nearly a quarter of a century after the injury that caused it, manages to make me look like I'm turning into a Klingon whenever I'm overly angry or out of puff.
* [edit] it's in the same place and looks very similar to Mr Logic's one about 15 or so posts down

On the edge of the woods just behind my house, one of our ever-so public spirited neighbours had dumped a load of smashed up hard old lino. This stuff was like Bakelite, and there were large jagged slivers of it, which could easily do you a mischief.

My friend Martin and I, being only 7 years old at the time, thought this was great and decided to play a game we called "Flying Daggers". It involved flinging the larger slivers (rough isoceles triangles, 6-8 inches long and 2-3 inches wide at the base) at each other from a distance of only a few metres. The aim of the game was to catch one of these spinning emissaries of bloodied doom.

I did.

Right in my forehead.

I would've carried on playing, too, but the blood trickling into my eyes made it hard to see.



my second favourite scar came as a result of being threatened with a gun:
It was dusk in the summer of 1988. I was playing out the front with some friends and, for some reason, one of them ran inside to tell his dad on us. The dad came out and, jokingly, threatened to get his air rifle out and shoot us.

Naturally I legged it indoors. Or I would've done, had the grass not been so damp. I slipped on our front lawn and landed with my knee at the exact point where concrete meets grass, splitting the patella (that's the knee cap, for those of you who don't watch Casualty) in twain. A gaping gash bisecting my knee, with the innards plain for all to see. I howled in agony and my parents came rushing out. My dad scooped me up and carried me to the car, then they rushed me to the General Hospital, which had a casualty unit that knew me well (I'd been in and out with various injuries frequently over the previous 10 years or so). Apparently I was rather green at this point (well, not my lower left leg, which was covered in claret, but you get my drift) and hyperventilating like nobody's business, so they stuck me in a wheelchair and rushed me through, despite the waiting room being full of rugby players and drunkards in various shades of blood red.

The nurse who saw to me had the sympathetic bedside manner of Dr Josef Mengele and, amongst other bizarre control methods, threatened to make me breathe into a paper bag if I didn't stop hyperventilating. She stuck a very big hypodermic needle into the bloodied chasm that had been my kneecap and was about to inject it with anaesthetic when there was a loud crash from the other half of the 'dirty theatre' (as the unsterile casualty operating theatre is known). Turns out some bloke had fainted watching his son have his ear sewn back on (he'd cut it off with a rusty tin lid somehow, possibly in a Picasso-inspired act of whore lust, I'll never know). She propmptly left me, bloody big needle in my knee 'nall, and went over to give succour to this spineless wimp. Not only succour, mind, but my wheelchair, too. The cow.
Anyway, she eventually came back, stitched me up good and proper, and sent me on my way.
I had to spend the remaining 3 weeks of the summer sat on my arse, changing the angle of my knee from straight to bent once a day so it didn't get too stiff, while all my mates were having races round the block, long-jumping and throwing ersatz javelins made from saplings, inspired by the olympics of that same summer.
I felt like Jimmy Stewart in rear window (not that I knew it at the time, taut psychological dramas not being a staple of the young atomboy's film diet) and, to a lesser extent, Bart in the Simpsons' spoof of the same (not that It'd been made at the time, obviously).

To this day I have a broad, raised scar about 4 inches long across it and a kneecap so knobbly that I'd be a shoo-in at any 1950's Butlins knobbly knees competition.
( atomboy, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:56, Reply)

I think I'm the only person to have ever fallen off of a football pitch.
A few years back at a family holliday in Cornwall, we were staying at the Mullion holiday park and the staff had challenged the holiday makers to a game of football. Everything was going fine, getting a few choice tackles in etc. when the ball was about to go out of touch. I ran for the ball and managed to back heel it, thereby saving the throw in. Unfortunately my speed meant that there wasn't any room for me to slow down before I collided with and went straight through the privet hedge that encircled the field. On the other side of the hedge was a six foot drainage ditch which I fell into knees first, resulting with a punctured knee cap, extreme embarassment at having to be pulled out and hours at Truro hospital....JOY!
(eyebrows, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:56, Reply)

when
I was about 15 I had an abject fascination with exploding things. So after borrowing the necessary ingredients from the chemistry labs, I made some potassium nitrate, rammed it in an old cigar tube and packed a banger in the top. I was feeling rather pleased with myself 'til I noticed a slight leak around the fuse, so I struck upon the idea of sealing the gap with wax.
btw, if anyone's considering building a pipe-bomb, then don't hold a lit candle over the fuse if you happen to be in a small locked room at the time.
I was a bit lucky that the fuse blew out away from the palm of my hand. Other than some nasty cuts on my left hand and a cropped mullet where my scalp had got burned, I got away rather lightly.
( techierob, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:54, Reply)

A few
I have a few small scars.

1, Years ago one winter in germany as a kid, there was a group of us who decided to smash up a several day old snowman, unknown to us it was an ice man.
Someone decided they would use a small spade to hack into it. So they swing away, it glances off the ice and spins them around into my top lip. cue red snow, hospital visit, stiches and a small scar on my filtrum still there 20years later.

2, Several years later while arguing with my bro, as you do, i swear at him and run off. So he decides to stop me with a stick, javalin fashion... it hits me on the head. Loads of blood, many ruined tea-towels, hostpital visit and several stitches.

3, While working as a butcher to pay my way through uni. Sharpening a blade with the sharpeny thingy sticking up, hey im looking profesional! feel a thump on my left thumb, pfft ingore it.
Until i got that warm trickley feeling over my hand, only then do i notice that i had sliced the knuckle to the bone and my hand was covered in blood. No hospital or stitches, just a really long break because aparently i went sheet-white.
(Fishbone-didi, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:49, Reply)

Got a few...
I ended up with cuts all over my body after having a rather drunken night at my mates flat. Having finished a bottle of vodka before anyone else had really even started drinking, I got angry with the bottle for being empty, and tried to throw it out of the open window (3rd floor), but it hit the closed part and smashed both window panes, and the bottle, which then fell onto the street below.

Later in the evening, another of my mates who lived in the same flat, on the 1st floor, came home with a girl he'd pulled. I decided I wanted to climb up onto the ledge outside his window and take pictures of him getting busy, so I got a stepladder and started to climb up, but the ladder fell away, leaving me hanging by my fingertips cliffhangar-style. Eventually I fell, down onto the cold, hard concrete, and all the glass I had deposited there earlier.

When we woke up in the morning there were bloody handprints all over the flat, it looked like there had been a murder!





Another time I got pushed over by a drunk mate, hit my head on a computer case that happened to be lying in his lounge, then landed on his less-than-forgiving carpet cheekbone-first, resulting in a pretty badass carpet burn -



Appologies for length, no appologies for nipples.
(Jon Norris, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:48, Reply)

Nose
i was about 3 or 4, when i was IN HOSPITAL after having an asthma attack. I was getting pushed around by some other kids on one of those little ride on car things. I picked up dangerous speed, failed to negotiate the turn, and slammed into a table, nose first, breaking it.

Then about 2 years later, i jumped on my bed, lost my footing and smashed my face off the radiator. Result? Nose broken again.

Now when i get cold, i have a clear blue line which appears accross the bridge of my nose, where it broke both times
(Nyphur, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:48, Reply)

In order of nastyness,
1, When I was about 12 I went to a garden centre with my parents and proceded towards the park with the rickety old roundabout. I was wearing my fetching cycling shorts at the time, and started to push the moleste old roundabout. When I suddenly slipped, and my leg fell underneath the thing where my cycling shorts and my leg were caught on a rather large and rusty nail. After the third spin around attatched to the roundabout , someone saw me and managed to drag me out. nice

2, Those evil, super hot, glue guns that dripped all over my hand and hardened to my blistered skin immediately.

3, When I dropped a pair of sissors that bounced back into my fleshy palm. I had to pull them out of my skin.

4, When I was cutting a bread roll with a newly sharpened knife, that cut so deeply that the skin curled underneath itself.

5, When I thought it would be a good idea to use a chisel to take a bit of plastic off the top of my car aerial and instead went into my finger.

6, And in summer I was a goalkeeper and went to safe the ball when the opposing striker missed the ball and kicked me full on in the face. I have a nice long scar underneath my lower eye lid where my eye nearly fell out.

Sorry for length.......... well i'm not really.
(Balron doesn't care how big his photos are, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:46, Reply)

This guy I know..
Back in the day, at his primary school, he was playing about with the doorframe between his classroom and the corridor; you know, the bit where the hinges are.. not where the handle is.

His teacher went out to the corridor to talk to another teacher, and closed the door with a good deal of force. Bearing in mind these were thick, heavy doors, and due to pivots and moments blah blah blah. Anyway, the jist of the story is that his finger got crushed, and I mean completely crushed.

That's not the most comical thing about it though, not only did he feel near-enough no pain owing to the fact that his nerves were completely wrecked, but the teacher (who was a supply) didn't notice. She did notice after he was frantically tugging away at her blouse, though.

Aforementioned boy had to have plastic surgery to reshape his finger, and to this day that one little bit of it is close-enough to being numb, and of course is covered in scars.

The teacher swiftly "moved to Australia", which is what the headteacher would say happened when a teacher was fired or died. Makes you wonder what would happen if a teacher really did move to Australia... *wonders*
( Naive Amoeba Bored Cig, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:38, Reply)

I have a nice two inch scar on my right thigh
where I was cutting part of a model off the sprue without using a cutting board

and another one the same size an inch away from it where I did it again the next week
( MrSanity has maybe kicked the WoW habit forever, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:38, Reply)

The Skateboard...

...decided it wanted to stop, without telling me first. With the cat-like reflexes and agility of the young, I naturally landed head first on the road and then 'bounced' a bit.

I went home with a two inch gash across my chin, there was no one else home so I just held the cut together put a plaster on it and went back out to play, (as you do).

My mother came back from the shops, saw me and asked what i'd done to my chin. I told her i'd cut it a bit - she took the plaster off and promptly fainted because she could see bone sticking out through the general mush!

Short version: Ten stitches, lovely scar and a squeemish mother.

.
(SproutsAreEvil, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:31, Reply)

my sister...
has a scar above her left eye from when we were very little: she took, no, stole, one of my toys and the only retalliation at the time i could muster was to try and bite her eye out. The scar's only 1/2cm long but it's the best of our battle scars from the toddler years.
(psykit, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:29, Reply)

A small one on the back of my hand
from a drop of sealing-wax when I was sealing an envelope with my custom-made stamp. How middle-class is that?
( Bob Todd whee, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:27, Reply)

DT lessons
Design and Technology, aged 12, trying to chisel wood. I'm a bit malcoordinated. Chisel slips and I end up with a trip to the nurse's office, DT teacher in hysterics and an inch long scar on my wrist, which eight years later looks remarkably like I tried to kill myself.

I was banned from the DT room three months later after another accident. Sadly no scars from that one.
(hakkety, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:26, Reply)

And another one
tweebianmonkey's pic of his finger reminds me of a similar scar on mine.

The moral of the story is NEVER try to separate 2 deep frozen beefburgers with a lethally sharp meat cleaver when your hungry and pissed !
( RadG Drinking Mojitos in the sun, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:24, Reply)

no pictorial evidence im afraid... because i can't be bothered.
1st scar.

back of head - right on the nobble. dad dropped me while swinging me around the back yard. only visible because i shave my hair to grade one. He doesnt even remember the incident - hence when he first saw me with a convict cut he asked where i got it. muppett.

2nd scar.

in my single, rowing on the Guadalquiver two years ago on christmas training camp. got a bit too close to the bank and some sticky outy trees.

result, the lower bit of branch buggered the breakwater on my nice shiney boat. the upper branch (two prongs) ripped into my left shoulder blade and arm, leaving two puncture marks on my back and a long streak of scar tissue down the underside of my left arm.

nice.
(magictorch, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:17, Reply)

Big pic
Sorry. Don't care really though.
Have a mass of scars but none recent thank feck.

The first is my right hand index finger (if you hadn't worked it out). Put it through a glass door that had exit written above it but didnt actually open outwards. Bastards. Someone else had done it a couple of years before and they had only replaced the pane with toughened glass in the one that broke.

No stitches in my finger though. I realise these days how lucky I was and how random it cut lengthways and not across.... :|

Similarly the scar above my knee is from the falling shards. This was 1993 - pre "sue yo ass mudder fluffer" days. So not a penny.
Below das knee is a big gouge from slipping into a shitty filthy duck pond that was rubble concrete lined. Ow. I had shit in it.

And the back of the has various glass (from door) inflicted slices, GCSE DT tears and a melted polo burn from Scouts.
Great days.
/edit - You can't really see them that clearly. So if you want some hot scar action call: 0891 SACR BTCH. This applies mostly to ladies who like men with hairy legs.
(tweebianmonkey Should be known as Widget, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:16, Reply)

got loads of these, but i'll post them one at a time...
I've got a one inch, fairly thick scar smack in the middle of my forehead.

This was the result of a Newcastle Brown Ale bottle swung at high velocity down the Bigg market in Newcastle.

Apparently i looked at his bird.

Edit: I also have a three incher going down the side of my face from the top of my right ear down to my chin. That was from a sovereign ring down the Bigg market in Newcastle.

You'd think i would have learned.

Does make me look quite hard though,
(buggerlugs fold staple mutilate, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:12, Reply)

my left eardrum
My left eardrum is one big scar.
When I was about 7 or 8, I was playing tig (or tag) in the school playground, when we came up with a new variation. A moleste length of wire (the stiff plastic-coated type) on the school fence was detached at one end - it was several feet long and, being kids, we decided to play wire tig, so that all you had to do was touch someone with the wire and they were "it".
My best friend (yes you Duffy) managed to stick it straight down my ear. Hence the massive eardrum scarring. These days you could probably sue the local education authority for a stack of money.

(I ran into the school with my hand over my ear. The dinner lady asked me what was wrong so I took my hand away. The resulting cascade of blood caused her to faint. She was a great help.)

PS My scars mostly seem to be nature's little reminders to not let OTHER PEOPLE be so damned stupid next time.
( finnbar has officially retired, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:11, Reply)

Nice bit of beefsteak anyone?
There was this motorbike I was riding ... many years ago
going to meet some mates for a party ... braking a wee bit harder than I should have been to turn right at a t junction ... I can still see it now ... the front forks were compressed with the braking, the bars turned slightly in .. all was well .... and then I saw it ! .. the nemisis of all bikers (apart from spilled diesel on roundabouts) in the road ... right in the path of my front wheel a crushed totaly flat coke can !!!11. The front wheel went over the compressed aluminium skid pan and went away from me .... thankfully I was only doing about 20 mph .... .. the bike went down like a twisty turny nasty thing ... me and the bike bounced down the road, miraculously missing each other at each bounce and I ended up sliding up the road .. on my front ( hint ... if you spend a lot of money on a good leather jacket as I did, you need to zip it up rather than leave it open to look cool!). So .. I did 20 yards on my front ... jacket unzipped .. hit a wall .. ricoched back into the road. Bad

I woke up ... only a few seconds must have gone by ... the bike was just a few feet away from me ... the engine still running , just ticking over, the back wheel still spinning .... the thing I remember most is that I was in a heap in the middle of the road, the bike close by, and there was a string of traffic behind me ... all delicately driving around me, then the bike .. and fucking off as fast as they could !

After a couple of minutes ... one car stopped ... a women wound her window down and nervously said " are you alright" ... to which I replied in my post crash trauma state "ummm .. I think so" .... before I even got to the first letter of So ... she was gone ...accerlerating hard. Bitch .. well .. at least she stopped to ask.

I eventually picked mysel and the bike up ... it was fucked, but sort of ridable ... so I went on to the pub. Walked in through the door and said " hey you never guess what I did".

The look of sheer horror on the faces of everyone in the pub will live with me yto my dying day !!!

In my post crash adrenaline rush ... I had not felt the pain .. or looked down at my front torso !

where I had slid down the road (leather jacket undone) I had turned my chest into what can best be described as a mixture of shredded T shirt, tarmac, gravel and moleste quantities of blood, A classic gravel rash.

I kinda keeled over at this point ... don't remeber much after apart from waking up in the hospital with a rather nice nurse telling me that they had managed to save my nipples.

And to this day ... my nipples are pink, pert and thourougly loved, albeit surrounded by a nice big gravel rash scar (somewhat faded now years after the event) !
( RadG Drinking Mojitos in the sun, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:11, Reply)

Jelly Fish
I think I can proudly say that I think I'm the only person with a scar from a jelly fish. On my 12th birthday I was stung by what seemed like at the time a 100 ft jelly fish and now, nearly 23 years later, I've got two big white slice-like scars on my leg. Actually it wouldn't have scarred at all if I hadn't decided to pick the scabs off !!! :o) It was worth it!
(Hazy, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:10, Reply)

In ascending order of embarassment
1. 2 inch scar left arm just below the wrist. Caused by amateur dramatics (children, when stage fighting, we remove our rings, don't we)

2. Various scrapes over knuckles due to worst job I ever had. When your "safety" gloves have ripped open your skin, and you get cement dust in the wounds... owie. owie. owie.

3. Scarring across scalp. Due to being viciously attacked by a bus stop sign. I wasn't even drunk.
( Argh-wrath ... is a very lame Glorantha joke, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 13:01, Reply)

My Favourite scar
would be the one on the bottom of my chin. It is a very visible reminder of the time I got pissed and decided to attack the university library, source of all anti-fun during the degree. After breaking in, I decided I would like nothing more than to launch myself at the shelving units. And who needs hands to protect themselves when the chin can take the blow? I had to be dragged away from the books in the end and spent the rest of the night avoiding probing questions from spotty, smirking junior doctors
( timothycrippins, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 12:58, Reply)

and my brother...
...twisted a testicle and they had to do surgery on it. But i'm sure I've already told you all this before.
www.b3ta.com/questions/embarrassinginjuries/post13693/
( mrlogic is copying your beard, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 12:53, Reply)