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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2DMa2O9
thebyrchentwigges:
lioness–hart:
once-a-polecat:
d–t:
buckykingofmemes:
Okay friends, I’m feeling uninspired when answering asks for Bucky stories–many of which draw from my real-life mistakes. So I’m asking that you reblog this post and add to it the the funniest way you (or someone you know) has been injured. It doesn’t have to be a serious injury–I’m looking for humor here! Anything from stubbing your toe in the dark (I broke three toes) to sledding accidents (my brother broke his arm). I may borrow bits and pieces of your stories in bucky-tales someday, so please note if you’d rather I not do that (and I’ll try to tag anyone I’m inspired by when I post.) If nothing else, this should be good fun.
Let the scar wars begin!
-Mod Hell
tripped over a waffle block on my first day of pre-k, landed face first on a lego.
Had to get three stitches in my eyebrow and I still have the scar from it.
This was before super magic dissolving stitches were a thing and I had to go in to the hospital to get them out after the hurricane came through and obliterated everything, so my stitches were taken out by flashlight.
I dropped a Costco sized jar of peanut butter on my foot when I was 6 and fractured my toe.
Got headbutted by a pony when I was 9. Landed on a goose. Geese bite hard and I’ve got the scar on my arm to prove it.
When I was 15, my father, a medical researcher, was between jobs. He stored a lot of lab equipment in our basement. I tripped over a laser apparatus with sharp metal edges, gashed my leg severely. Had a great time all summer answering “what happened to your leg” with “IT WAS A LASER!”
There’s a scar next to my eye from running into a slide on the playground (we were playing tag, and I tried to duck under it, and didn’t duck far enough). It’s not a very noticeable scar, and it’s not a particularly funny story, but the story of the mental scarring that went along with it is sort of funny. It took place at a park with a beach, and I was given first-aid by a very busty young woman in a bathing suit that, as she bent to tend me, I could see straight down the front of, and she didn’t realize this, and didn’t understand why i kept trying to close my eyes or turn my head away as she attempted to clean the pretty serious cut (I should’ve had stitches). I was too shy to tell her why I didn’t really want to look straight ahead even though I did want to be cooperative. I was like, seven or eight, and there was a lot of… uhhh, her, and I just did not know where to look. It remains pretty vivid in my memory.
I’ve always sort of meant to use that in a story and I don’t know if I ever will, so. If you can make it funny instead of creepy, it’s free to a good home.
(Your picture was not posted)
thebyrchentwigges:
lioness–hart:
once-a-polecat:
d–t:
buckykingofmemes:
Okay friends, I’m feeling uninspired when answering asks for Bucky stories–many of which draw from my real-life mistakes. So I’m asking that you reblog this post and add to it the the funniest way you (or someone you know) has been injured. It doesn’t have to be a serious injury–I’m looking for humor here! Anything from stubbing your toe in the dark (I broke three toes) to sledding accidents (my brother broke his arm). I may borrow bits and pieces of your stories in bucky-tales someday, so please note if you’d rather I not do that (and I’ll try to tag anyone I’m inspired by when I post.) If nothing else, this should be good fun.
Let the scar wars begin!
-Mod Hell
tripped over a waffle block on my first day of pre-k, landed face first on a lego.
Had to get three stitches in my eyebrow and I still have the scar from it.
This was before super magic dissolving stitches were a thing and I had to go in to the hospital to get them out after the hurricane came through and obliterated everything, so my stitches were taken out by flashlight.
I dropped a Costco sized jar of peanut butter on my foot when I was 6 and fractured my toe.
Got headbutted by a pony when I was 9. Landed on a goose. Geese bite hard and I’ve got the scar on my arm to prove it.
When I was 15, my father, a medical researcher, was between jobs. He stored a lot of lab equipment in our basement. I tripped over a laser apparatus with sharp metal edges, gashed my leg severely. Had a great time all summer answering “what happened to your leg” with “IT WAS A LASER!”
There’s a scar next to my eye from running into a slide on the playground (we were playing tag, and I tried to duck under it, and didn’t duck far enough). It’s not a very noticeable scar, and it’s not a particularly funny story, but the story of the mental scarring that went along with it is sort of funny. It took place at a park with a beach, and I was given first-aid by a very busty young woman in a bathing suit that, as she bent to tend me, I could see straight down the front of, and she didn’t realize this, and didn’t understand why i kept trying to close my eyes or turn my head away as she attempted to clean the pretty serious cut (I should’ve had stitches). I was too shy to tell her why I didn’t really want to look straight ahead even though I did want to be cooperative. I was like, seven or eight, and there was a lot of… uhhh, her, and I just did not know where to look. It remains pretty vivid in my memory.
I’ve always sort of meant to use that in a story and I don’t know if I ever will, so. If you can make it funny instead of creepy, it’s free to a good home.
(Your picture was not posted)
no subject
Date: 2018-01-30 11:08 pm (UTC)I still have vivid memories of the time a much younger Krait found THE STEEPEST HILL and was so amped about sledding down it - I was going to go so fast and then tell all my cousins about it and be the Discoverer Of The Most Awesome Sledding Hill.
Did I mention I was younger? I was also less conversant with physics. It turns out that when you point a sled down a nearly-vertical slope, you DO go really fast! The problem comes at the end, because it turns out that, unlike hills and humans, sleds don't bend. When the slope meets level ground, your sled will stop with its front buried in snow. You? You will continue about eight feet on your front, crashing headfirst through several dead bushes until your head meets with one sturdy enough to stop your now-reduced momentum.
I remember lying there in the prickly remains of a shrub thinking, Ouch... and twitching each hand/foot to make sure it worked. Picking all the bits of broken branch out of my hair took forever, but eventually I got up and trudged back over to retrieve my sled from where it was basically standing on end at the bottom of the hill like a toothpick in a sandwich.
I must say, I left a great swath of destruction between the sled and the final bush! Two shrubs between me and my final landing position were smashed right through, and you could follow the trail of my progress by the lines in the snow and the scattered bits of branch.