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