
You'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.
( , Fri 4 Feb 2005, 10:00)
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At boarding school, ill with flu.
School nurse brings me an orange to eat.
I decide to cut this orange up with a scalpel, which cuts through the orange and my hand with equal ease.
Stumbling down the street to get my stitches in my hand, I get accosted by a teacher for _not wearing socks_. How he could see that and not take in the blood-soaked teatowel wrapped around my hand I still don't know.
( , Fri 4 Feb 2005, 10:57, Reply)
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