Red Bull - Gives You Scars
It was a fairly messy night in the Shitest nightclub out there and I decided that i needed a little boost from Red Bull - buy one at the bar and put it in my back pocket - this somewhat unbalances me and I fall back on to my arse and burst the can in my pocket - which literally tears me a new arsehole.

A bleeding arse and being thrown out of the club - what a great night.
(multipac, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 22:32, Reply)

Scars.....
starting from the bottom (no not that one)

Left foot - one on top, one on bottom - garden fork incident many years ago

Right thigh (back) - approx 3 inch long scar - building site, plank of wood leant against a wall - wahey, impromptu slide, rusty nail - guess the rest.

Cock - circumcision done when i was 12 at grimsby hospital, looks like it was done by a blind doctor with a rusty can lid

right index finger - underneath, sliced from underside of knuckle to tip of finger with a fuggin sharp knife - stitches etc, still no feeling (great party trick with needles or a lighter, cannot feel a thing!)

left middle finger - most of the way along from some fuggin sharp blades at work

other fingers - burns and cuts from work, loads of....

elbow and right arm - scrubbed my skin off when i came off my motorbike wearing a t-shirt!

left shoulder - 3 inch long scar from when i had a lump dug out of it at the same shitty grimsby hospital

top of head - inch and half scar from when the missus smacked me over the head with a stella bottle for snogging her mate - lucky it didnt break!, was pissed and never felt a thing.

To be fair, i deserved the last one.....
(Aleister Crowleys Badger Nothing to see here, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 22:24, Reply)

How did I get it?
My girlfriend was asking how I got my scar, so I pointed to my chin and told her how I fell off my bike when I was 3. She goes "no, that one!" and points to a fucking massive scar across my chest. How the fuck did that get there! I have no idea what I did (must have been pissed) but I have a scar that runs from one underarm to the other! And I'd never noticed it before!
(JK5150, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 22:18, Reply)

CDT class....
which I believe stands for Craft, Design and Technology. I was 13 and frankly not much cop at it at all (being an arty type).
Whilst working on my project - which was to make a toy for a child (mine was a wooden duck on wheels) I decided to decorate it round the edge by branding it with little hearts.
Unfortunately being cack-handed I managed to brand my thumb. I still have the slightly faint scar 14 years later on my right thumb.
Just to add insult to injury I got sent out of class and a detention for swearing in class very loudly. I always thought Mr Smith was a twunt.
(colamonster, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 22:04, Reply)

Aaaand finally...
Trying to cut a very thing piece of cheese, I held it upright and tried to slice it vertically. Cheese went one way, knife went the other.

Thankfully it didn't damage the worktop because my (now well-chewed) thumb got in the way. It bled for ages until I wrapped it in toilet paper and sellotape.


( Biggus Dickus , it was like that when I found it, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 21:58, Reply)

Oooh! Another one!
Well I will be a clever shit. On the way home from school I decided to short-cut across the playing field. The wire fence (you know the kind, like super-sized chicken wire) was busted all the way to the top and I figured I'd jump up, catch the wire and swing through the hole.

Who the hell puts barbed wire on busted fences anyway? Thankfully my palm is perfectly functional, although the scar goes through my lifeline, which is a bit worrying.


( Biggus Dickus , it was like that when I found it, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 21:56, Reply)

Cleethorpes Beach
Most kids get a plastic spade to play with on the beach - not me! I got a full-sized metal & wood shovel. I also didn't have very good aim, cos' it was almost up to my chin.

So I'm diggin' a hole (hole in the ground..) and I feel a sudden pain in my foot. I limp to the water's edge and wash my toes in salt water and took a look at the damage.

The spade had neatly sliced my foot between two toes, and had opened up a lovely long split showing muscle and tendons and whatever else is in feet. It was.. not nice.

Didn't hurt that much, but I had to walk - walk - to the doctor's and sit in the waiting room with my foot hanging open.



No apologies for length - you love it, slags!
( Biggus Dickus , it was like that when I found it, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 21:48, Reply)

Owch
When I was 12 I was helping my Dad remove a big chunk of concrete so as to build a utility room. I was going at it with hammer and chisle (Be quite you dirty minded person) and not making great progress. My Dad, probably wanting to avoid me getting hurt, asked to borrow the hammer. No matter, I'd just smash the chisel up and down.

SMASH
SMASH
SMASHAGGGHER!

I was hitting things a lot harder than I though I was, as I discovered when the thing I happened to hit was the little finger on my right hand. Being a 'late bloomer' I screamed like a girl and franticaly grabbed my finger (Which was still attatched) and jumped up and down alot. My parents, becoming concerned asked what had happened. I showed them my finger, or rather the mass ammounts og blood which had been spewing out of it when I covered it with my hand.

Isn't it odd how things always seem to hurt more when there is blood involved. I began to cry, not an unusual thing I must add, for as well as being a late bloomer I also got upset easily. (I know, I see why people thought I was such a twunt now.) Granted though It was bloody painful and I imagine I'd still cry now, or at least whimper and dance about a lot.

My finger nail turned black and was pushed off as another grew underneath it. I now have a scar strectching from the fingernail to about halfway to the first knuckle. The adjacent finger carries a scar as well, where I was bitten by a rabbit. That time I just swore and felt rather peeved.
(JamesG, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 21:23, Reply)

Nothing too spectacular, could win the ponciest scar contest though...
I managed to scar myself playing bloody NETBALL. and not through a violent leap for the ball, no, scarred by the classical music loving posh kid of the year. the person who fainted from the bcg skin test. how impressive. thats as far as my scarrage goes so far, a small red dot in the middle of my left hand. playing bloody netball.
(bangbangstoat, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 21:19, Reply)

Possibly the most nerdy scar ever.
I was at school one morning in tutor group, and was hurriedly revising for a Latin vocabulary test that was looming on the horizon. My Latin vocab folder was one of those cheapo folders to hold punched sheets, with a little brass strip that you bend over at each end once you've put them through the holes.

In the process of my obviously diligent revision I managed to pull this bit of brass out of the plastic, whereupon I discovered it had additional wide, and fairly sharp, bits to keep it inside. I then discovered wrapping the brass strip around your finger and trying to pull it off from one end like a bit of string does not work, and the strip gashed my finger to the bone, resulting in an unexpected amount of blood, exposed fat cells and muscle tissue and 8 stitches in the end of my finger. I still have sensory loss now.

I also tried to flirt with the over-worked 20-something nurse (I was about 15) who then did her best to cause maximum pain when administering the local anasthetic. The reason for my wound clearly helped my attempts to be charming very little.

On a brighter note, I skipped the Latin test.
( shindig, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 21:16, Reply)

today
about ten minutes ago i just caught my finger in the rotors on my (pedal)bike brakes and ive cut the end of my finger off one side and ripped half the nail. just waiting for it to stop bleeding - theres blood all over the keyboard :(
(Macabre_Halo, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 21:11, Reply)

Cars and fools
So I'm at uni. I'm about half way through my first year. When we started I was put in a flat with 7 others, who I got along with, but there was one bloke (Tristen) who I got on with particularly well. So the second weekend, everyone has gone home except for me, Trist and 1 of the blokes who lives in London. Tristen's 2 mates come down on the Friday and they say they are going to Sheffield to see another mate and ask if I want to go along. We go to a shite party where Tristen manages to shag the roughest bird in the building, nay, the county. Apparently ugly girls DO shag better.

Anyway, we are on our way back in the car, and suddenly Trist pipes up. I'm not sure why he said this, but I'm assuming it was a combination of shame for the previous night, and the fact that he got dumped a week before starting uni so his girlfriend could go out with another bloke (and one that he already hated at that) for one week. So he says:

"You know what I always wanted to do? Jump out of a moving car".

So, he gets his mate to slow down to 20 MPH, all the while me and his other mate are telling him to go at least 25 (glad we weren't listened to now) and he opens the door and jumps out. All I saw was his body falling out the car, then looking in the rear window, him rolling along the floor and lying there for a while, before getting up and staggering towards us like a drunken bum. We all know that when you jump from something moving, you are best to run with it. Well, he decided to run against the direction of the car, which made his injuries much worse. We had to go to hospital twice (which took like an hour to fin each time because I was driving and I didn't know Huddersfield well at this point. And I can't navigate for shit) once for his head and once later for his back. His head was glued back together with odd blue glue, and his back had nothing done to it because they said it would be 4 hours before he got seen, but it had scratchy scars all up it, which are still there, and hurt for about 3 or 4 weeks. The hospital staff were great, they thought he was an idiot for "falling down the stairs", and the nurse that saw him at first was great. "Have you tried pain killers? Well, that's what they're for, P-A-I-N K-I-L-L-E-R-S".

The scars are still on his back and his head.
( Styxx hates when people talk in the third person, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 20:52, Reply)

Oh bollocks...
seems like there's quite a lot of motorbike-related twattery here and for good reason: you can seriously hurt yourself on the things... especially when you spazz out at low speed and wrap your back around a lamp post.

Lower pic is from where they opened me up to fix an unstable spinal fracture by fusing three vertebrae back together with plates, screws and a bone graft. For some reason I'm not paraplegic- the consultant doesn't know why.
Upper pic is back of my head from last week- I got a pressure sore from being on a spinal board for 12 hours at the Royal London Hospital after crashing aforementioned bike, and then the dumbarse nurses not paying any attention when I suggested that the reason it smelt like rotting meat was septicaemia setting in... This was last October! Fuck knows when it will heal, and what sort of scar it will leave if and when it does. Granuflex dressings make it smell like unwashed arse as well.
Which is nice...
( PastorSauce : easy on the anchovies..., Fri 4 Feb 2005, 20:50, Reply)

Well boyo
Whilst jumping off the Severn bridge a few years back, I got me self a nasty nick on me thumb when I caught it on a rusty bolt. Bloody hurt that one man.
(r manic, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 20:44, Reply)

Left forearm
A bright summer day, headed out to some friends of mine in my just-bought-truck, I made a sharp right turn onto a dirt road with a ledge on one side. Cue me going off the road, up the ledge like some kid on a skateboard, making a complete revolution, and ending right side up with the underside of my forearm in tatters from the window. I hoofed it up the hot summer road for a mile to the freinds' house, who promptly went apeshit and drove me to the hospital.

There are a lot of little "shrapnel" scars up and down my arm, and a nice one on the elbow, but the main one is on the underside of my left forearm. For some reason, that one healed into a dragon-like shape, so I now tell people I got it fighting the Pendragon*.

-100% of fact.
(notcarlos, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 20:26, Reply)

Bored 14-year-old with a knife...
...testing how sharp the (apparently newly-sharpened) blade was. On the leg of her jeans, over her knee. Whilst sitting cross-legged. Was making pretty score-lines along the denim.

*scrape*

*scrape*

"Hey look, it's scoring my-

*Slice*

-Waaaaaaaaagh!!"

Ran (somehow) into kitchen, got nasty alcohol-covered baby-wipe thing, bled for 45 minutes. The jeans got stitches. I didn't. Result? Inch or so long purple scar that shrivelled up in the cold, making PE full of fun-filled explanations...
(underachiever, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 20:25, Reply)

Groin
When I was seven, I underwent surgery for a hernia in my groin. The scar is about and inch and a half long, and I was told it would fade, but it's still very noticeable, although covered by pubic hair some of the time. When you push down on it, it still feels hard.

I will always remember my Father pushing the hernia in a few days before the operation. When he pushed it in, it moved left a few inches, then stuck itself out again.
(Oinster, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 20:08, Reply)

I did this falling off a roundabout in the park...
...when I was 35.

Ended up with a Trimalleolar Fracture of the Fibula and had to have a steel plate put in my leg which is still there.

Of course, all the doctors and nurses took the piss in the nicest possible way.

The bastards.


( the RAND corporation a.k.a. Kevin Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 20:05, Reply)

one or two
Scar on my left hand caused by me taking a trip over the handlebars of my 1988 Olympic Winner Falcon racer... A head on collision resulted in me having sprained said hand, and a half inch cut on my 4th finger that scared me to death because I could see muscle.

Same bike, 5 years later and the rear mech got caught in the rear wheel launching me over the handlebars again and causing an inch long and half inch wide cut/deep graze on my knee. I never rode that bike again and my knee still aches now and then.

Also not a scar but there's a patch on my face that never grows hair because I had a fight with a doorstep and lost at the age of 2.
( beefandcheese, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 19:53, Reply)

Never give drunken piggybacks
Pub crawl with climbing club obviously requires a piggyback race. Cue me falling over (I blame someone else). I would have been fine and just ripped my trousers and left large holes in my knees (again), but if someone is on your back at the time they seem to bounce off the back of your head and ram you into the pavement. This was a couple of months ago and I still have a nice red circle in the middle of my forehead.
(Cuddles It's not rape if they're already dead, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 19:52, Reply)

Experiment 1.
Hypothesis : the human head is sufficiently dense to halt a golf swing.

Protocol: Proceed to the pub. Get mildly intoxicated. Proceed to the local "Pitch and putt". Try to appear 100% sober to the bloke in the shed. Attempt to stop a drunken mate taking a swing which would result in the braining of an innocent woman with a golf ball. Fail.
Bleed.
Go back to pub. Get newest head hole glued shut.

Result: The human head can indeed halt a golf stroke without significant levels of brain damage, but some cosmetic damage is to be expected. Half inch eye socket scar is not improved by picking glue out of the gash.
(Xybex, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 19:49, Reply)

Some recent ones...
came following a medium bike crash (nothing to do with the antics seen in profile!)

Anyway; was leaving a petrol station on my motorbike, on a fairly cold September morning. Ironically enough I was on my way to my MOT.

So I turned right out off the forecourt, and gave it a bit of gas, no more than usual mind. However, my new tyres, most specifically the back decided not to grip.

New tyres + cold + petrol station = I am a twunt

So the back spins up like crazy, and in a bid for glory decideds it wants to go in front. I have enough forwards motion to turn this into a massive sideways type slide.

As any biker will tell you, the worst thing to do here is shut off the power to quickly, as the back will grip and will be so far out of line that it will flick back so hard it'll throw you off; whats known as a highside.

Unfortunatly, gut instinct is to shut off, and thats what I did...

The bike threw me so hard I almost made it back to the right hand kurb; and then proceded to throw itself at the tarmac with a very expensive sounding crunch.

The next few hours were a bit of a haze, but I was alright enough to push the bike half a mile home.

Assessing the damage:

I was house bound for a few days; but was hardly at deaths door, but these little chaps are a nice shade of purple now, and probably will be forever.

Unfortunatly, the bike was worse

Whats worse is that this one won't heal for free like mine did.....

Oh, and it was quite a way away from getting through that MOT after everything sticky-outy snapped off...

Fucksocks (and apologies for length; but I hardly forced you to read it though did I?!)
(Smoking Joe, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 19:42, Reply)

I have a few...
There's the one I got working for a parcel delivery company loading and unloading lorries. It was such mind numbing work that I didn't even notice when I sliced my arm wide open on a broken metal support. I carried on working and when I loaded up my trolley and turned to exit a lorry, I noticed a trail of blood on the floor. I followed it with my gaze until it led to the enormous gash in my arm which is now a 3 inch scar.

Then there was the one I got for stupidity - I got literally blind drunk on xmas eve 1998. On the way home, I slipped over on the icy roads and landed face first. I have a vague recollection of picking myself up, touching my face and noticing my hand was then covered in blood. The next thing I remember, I woke up and had to literally peel the pillow off of my face where all the blood had congealed. I now have a large round, lumpy and very hideous scar below my nose so I have to have a goatee at all times to hide it.

And finally, I have a thin 3 inch scar across my forehead. I have absolutely no idea whatsoever how I got it. I should probably be worried that I have at some point sustained a head injury and cannot remember it at all.
( Damocles wants no part of your debauchery, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 19:26, Reply)

my wonderful scar
i was out skating (boarding) about 2 years ago without a care in teh world until that stone "on purpose" lodged its self in my wheel, obviously i went flying landing on my right arm. being naeve as i am i thought i'd just sprained it.... 4 months later my arm still troubled me so i went for an x ray an its when the doctor said " i regret to inform you but you have a very serious injury"... i'd broken it an it had been broke for 4 months without me noticing, i had to have corrective surgery and a metal plate put in :D hehe

( m-a-t-t -- formerly mini hasn't been on here for EVER!, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 19:22, Reply)

Someone decided to heat up a metal pen
and touch my hand with the end of it. Its stung but now i have a cool polo shape scar.
( polar ice is done for 4 months, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 19:21, Reply)

Knuckles!
i have a scar looping round half of my knuckle from making an easter bonnet! i was piercing a hole with scissors and they went through and lopped half my knuckle off. i also have a scar on my thumb from a scalpel slipped and sliced to the bone ! dam i am accident prone!
(rabid spong in catatonia, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 19:21, Reply)

Absinthe
Has been the cause of all my notable scars. the most impressive of these is a branded fork on my upper thigh. Yes, by simply heating up a common fork over a hob can cause excellent novelty permanent scaring, which doesnt hurt as it cooks the nerves. It was given to me by a delivery driver in a pizza take away restraunt i used to work at. Yes, i was at work at the time, and yes, i did take my trousers down to get the branding.

Second most impressive scar is on me forhead after a tumble down some pub stairs after drinking a bottle of the green fairy (absinthe not washing up liquid). My nipples are now significantly darker than they should be, afer stubbing out cigarettes on them at a party, and i have numerous pink scars on my arse from staples.
(justjuice, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 19:20, Reply)

Ooh
I have a nice one from where a South America shaped birthmark got removed when I was six or seven. I wish I could find a picture.

It was like someone had sponged brown paint through a South America shaped stencil onto my back.

Oh, and the scar is quite impressive too.
(Noonaa, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 19:20, Reply)

Along the crevice between my nuts
testicular torsure, 'nuff said.
(Slyph, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 19:13, Reply)

My best scar
dates from the age of 15 when I was inhaling lighter gas in the kitchen whilst my parents were out. I awoke with a pool of blood around my head having blacked out and hit my head against the kitchen door, gashing my scalp. Since then I've stuck to Valium.

I also have a scar half way down my penis. I was feeding the chickens on the farm as a toddler, dressed in only little red wellies and an oversized riding hat, when a chicken pecked me. I have post traumatic stress nightmares now whenever a girlfriend gives me head.

I would prefer not to post a picture.
(SSSSS, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 18:54, Reply)