Scars with historyYou've all got scars: they're nature's little reminders not to be so damned stupid next time. My favourite is the 1/4" round hole in the back of my right hand, created when I was 7 by my best friend putting a manure-covered gardening fork "away".
Tell us the stories behind your scars. With photos if possible.
(
chthonic, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 10:00)
« Go Back
My she-devil of an ickle sisteris the cause of two of my scars, one on my forehead and one on my stomach. The forehead one was aquired on the way back from a daytrip to Bournemouth when she "got bored" and dug her nails into my head to "see if they were sharp." I got the stomach one some years earlier on the way to Cornwall when, for no apparent reason, she bit me with all her might. Couldn't get her off either. Fucking nutjob.
Also got quite a gnarly one on me leg, due to my sheer mongoloid nature. Was climbing through a hole in a fence, tripped, leg got pierced on the only jagged (and rusty) wire sticking out and my t-shirt got caught as well. So I was kind of suspended in this hole for quite some time as my friends laughed at me. They went to get my mum who extracted me after maybe 20 minutes of being there. When I got out there was copious amounts of blood from the mahoosive slice on my leg, which a neighbour suggested I "let a dog lick, as it's a great remedy." No, ta.
You love the length.
(
Fictional Emma, Fri 4 Feb 2005, 10:37,
Reply)
« Go Back