When I was a lad, a bike chain ate me.
I was changing the chain on my push-bike (an impressive Raleigh Mustang) and due to my fat sausage fingers, and being a child, I managed to trap my little finger between the fat spikey cogs on the pedal and the chain itself, right at the bottom, at about 5 o clock if it was a clock.

Pretty sure most push bike owners have had to do this. Anyways, being but a sprog, and blood pissing out my finger, I was having a good old scream for my mum, she came outside, and, promptly started freaking out herself.

The bloke that lived next door, Peter, was his name, came over to see what all the fuss was about, and, in his infinite wisdom, decided the best way to free my finger would be to rotate the pedal around, FUCKING SLOWLY thus dragging my spazzed finger round to the top and then pulling it out the chain when it was free from both.

The cunt.

I swear he was enjoying it. In retrospect, the best way would have been to unhook the chain from that thingy in the back wheel and give it some slack, then remove the offending digit.

Again, the fucking cunt. I still can't grow a proper nail on that finger.
(yeswehavenopasties, Tue 4 Mar 2014, 1:29, 1 reply)

My chemistry teacher lost the tip of his finger to his motorbike chain.
We laughed, because he was a cunt.
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Tue 4 Mar 2014, 15:31, closed)