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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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When i was a young lad my bastard brother decided to videotape an instance where one of his wind ups bore fruit (which they invariably did). Admittedly I was as pretty moody 6/7 year old with a short temper and a petulant streak; but such was the allure. In retrospect, I don't blame him.
Anyway, he'd drawn me into a fit of rage through one of his methods (probably whistling) and whilst I was throwing myself around in blind juvenile fury, he whips out the videocamera from the other room and bursts into hysterics.
I congratulate my own personal strength as to take the passifists route to such ridicule; but my attempt to evade him only resulted in rabid pursuit. His progress was quashed when I slammed the door behind me whilst running, into which my brother and the camera collide. Incidentally this door was designed to inhabit a large (and rather ornate) glass panel, which happily broke into many vengeful shards upon impact.
One of the many pieces managed to find its way into my wrist, pocuring a profuse amount of blood and much wailing. Thankfully the elder did not go uninjured, and now bears a semi-circular scar on his thumb. Made the stupid gunt think about about his motives... for about an hour.
Rest assured he returned to his sustained malpractice for close to another decade, which he started by deleting my 95% donkey kong country save. I went fucking mental
( , Sat 5 Feb 2005, 1:08, Reply)
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