Poles
I have a rather spectacular scar from the webbing of my right hand to my wrist.

My webcam is a bit shit, so you can't see it all to well.
Piccy:



During a drama lesson, I noticed (with no small amount of annoyance) that one of my group members was always fucking about and not doing any work. Thus, I decided to educate him in the joys of getting his scrawny little arse kicked into gear.

Grabbing a handy iron pole that happened to be lying on the floor, I walked over and prodded him with it, telling him what I would do to him and his close ancestry what I would do if he didn't start working.

Here I learnt three important lessons.

1) Small people are evil little buggers.
2) NEVER pick up an iron pole from the floor.
3) NEVER hold the end that is jagged and torn into fantastic (and VERY sharp) shapes.

He grabbed end of pole to pull himself up.

Pole is pulled down.

Sharp bit of steel cuts open my hand to a depth of 5mm, splitting the webbing on the way.

Ow.

In shock, I started to move my hand, facinated by the fact that I could clearly see the muscles moving. Then it started to spurt blood everywhere, so I went to the nurse and then to the hospital.

Apparently, I was very lucky that the cut had split the skin, but hadn't touched the muscles, or it would have taken months to heal.

It only took a month to heal up, but I had to learn to wank left-handed. Cock.
(DarkLite swallowed my entire undercarriage, Sat 5 Feb 2005, 4:53, Reply)