This past weekend I was enjoying my first viewing of the extended Two Towers. Right before the end of the first disk, I spilled a fresh hot cup (very large cup) of coffee on my DVD remote (in addition to a pile of clean clothes, my couch, floor, 3 other remotes and my hand). My cheap ass DVD player will not start certain disks without the remote. This happened to be one of them.
I got out the canned air in a desperate attempt to dry off the remote before the first half ended. My attempt was in vain. An hour after the first half ended, and after using canned air and totally dismanteling the remote, Mr. Congo finally fixed it and started the second half.
I waited a whole friggen year to see this DVD and I killed my remote!!!
BTW, I also killed the cable remote and burned my hand. In a pair of totally unrelated incidents, I also killed two keyboards at work last week.
I know this was a pretty lame rant but I’m really annoyed with myself, especially since the cable remote is still broken. The 3, 6 and 9 buttons don’t work. My three favorite channels are 26, 29 and 301. DAMMIT!!!
ACK. I feel your pain. I routinely spill red wine on my white carpet, coffee on my remotes and sticky lemonade on my papers at work. In a perfect world, we’d have wine-colored carpets, waterproof remotes and cabana boys to serve our beverages at work through straws.
I’ve finally learned with my own keyboard at home. I bought a spill proof one. I don’t know how you make a keyboard spill proof but it’s still working 6 months later.
Many years ago, my father re-discovered a law of nature. It goes something like this: "If your boss and/or the money folks stop by the lab, someone will spill a can of soda on the crucial bit of equipment 15 minutes before they show up.
Today at work I was sure that I wasn’t going to make it to the end of my shift. I am normally clumsy and get bruises and scratches all the time, but today was extreme for me.
Dumped a container of REALLY hot water down my front, like about 85 C, and I have no idea what that is in F other than fucking hot!
Talking to someone while doing dishes. Using sprayer to rinse, went to hang up sprayer didn’t quite do it right and it bounced back and hit my nose and left eye. Can we say black eye and sore nose?
Cleaning out a stand up freezer by a swinging door. Was REALLY stupid and had head towards door, and of course someone came through, hit the ground holding top of my head in a brief moment of agony.
Then had to decide what hurt the most: burning most of the back of my hand on an oven door yesterday, then spilling hot water on it today definately rated!
Yes I work in a kitchen environment every day and have the damn scars to prove it!
I had a scar for a while from my first job, the Coronet theater. That popcorn popper gets hot, especially when there’s oil all over it (the oil had “missed” the opening to the chamber, so I was using a paper towel to sop it up, and the inside of my elbow made contact.)
I still have a scar on my right middle finger for when I sliced the tip of it off with a meat slicer at my deli job. My first thought: “Hrm… something doesn’t feel quite right.” Enter blood. The scar kinda looks like that big storm on Jupiter, not the Big Red Spot, but the smaller, white one.
I have a scar on the back of my hand from when I was roasting a marshmallow over a campfire. It caught fire and started to melt off of the stick, so my reaction was to jerk back on the stick. The flaming 'mallow landed on my hand and stuck there. Good burn.
Damn clumsy of me.
Troy, I got a scar on my arm almost the same way you did. I was working in a corporate cafeteria. One of my duties was to clean the pop corn popper. One day, I decided to get an early start by cleaning it as the last batch was heating up. I don’t know what made me do it, really I don’t. As I was cleaning the back wall, my arm moved up and touched the popper. I scorched off at least 6 layers of skin, had to fill out an accident report and then had to drive 85 miles home without the use of my right arm.
I also have a scar from the time I was making cotton candy. Those damn cotton candy matchines get hot.
I had a really bad day in September. Mr. Congo and I were getting some work done on the house. The day came when the workers were going to fix the floor in the bathroom and put in the new windows. Our old windows were those crappy crank out windows that you typically see in 50 year old military base houses. Anyway, 3 years we’ve lived here and I’ve never had a run in with the windows. On this fateful day, I went to the garage with one of the workers to find grout. On our way back, I walked straight in to the bedroom window. I knocked myself on my arse and ended up with a terrible headache. One of the other workers (the one at the other end of the house) came running and asked "what the hell was that thunk?). The funny part was Mr. Congo’s reaction. He was sound asleep right under that window. We heard him call out “I didn’t do it!”. He didn’t even remember saying it.
To continue with the day, I went to work. Around 3:00 my head stopped hurting and my vision went back to single instead of triple.
I went to the kitchen to get a drink. There’s this door between where I work and the kitchen. It’s one of those old heavy metal fire doors. Usually it opens only with a lot of force and even then, it opens slowly. Well, on this day, I put all my strength into it. I had enough to open it but not enough to keep it open. It started swinging back as I started walking through it. It hit me right in the middle of my nose. For the second time that day, I was knocked on my arse. Two days later I finally went to the doctor since I couldn’t breathe at night and it hurt to touch my face.
It wasn’t broken but I did have a lot of soft tissue damage.
I probably shouldn’t be suprised since I’m the same idiot who got admitted to the hospital when I was 5 because I decided that having a rocking horse on the top bunk was a good idea.
I have a little crescent shaped scar on my knuckle. See, if you shove your hand deep into a glass whilst trying to get the milk ring in the bottom clean, that glass just might, you know…explode.
Laid my knuckle skin wide open to the bone and almost caused my ex-husband to faint and puke simultaneously.
Took eight stitches, and I didn’t have to do dishes for three weeks. Maybe I oughta go shove my hand into another glass.
Yesterday I twisted my ankle while playing soccer. I was going for the ball, and my left foot somehow curled under my leg, which was more or less perpendicular to the floor. My calf essentially stomped on my ankle joint…
I have bunches of scars from knife cuts, scrapes, rocks, etc., but I’ve never broken a bone! (Although I did hear several crunches when I twisted my ankle…)
Not saying I’m clumsy or anything, but I have plastic glasses for my morning oj and milk, and my husband doesn’t let me touch anything in stores - if it’s breakable, he picks it up and shows it to me. On the plus side, I don’t bruise easily and I heal very quickly.
Ahh clumsiness, this is an area where I fit right in. Just this afternoon I was talking to my sister when suddenly I fell down my stairs. I hurt my leg pretty bad but I don’t want to go to the ER again because not even a month ago I was in there for falling in the shower, they might start to think my husband hits me. I’m horribly clumsy, I have been all my life. I have a scar on my knee from when I was 6, I was just walking along with my cousin and I tripped over the air I guess. I’ve stapled myself to walls, thrown myself into doors, knocked myself out on shelves, slipped and slid all over every house I’ve lived in and I shut my finger in my dryer. Oh and also today I hit myself in the nose with my hairbrush while telling my husband a really funny story from my youth. My husband keeps threatening to put me in a padded room but he says even then I’d find a way to hurt myself. The sad part is, he’s probably right.
One night, back in my dorm days of college, my roommate at the time and I were sitting at our desks on our computers (cool, huh?), getting drunk, as was the style at the time. After sufficient beer had been consumed, we began acting stupid. I threw a mostly empty water bottle at him, then he turned around and threw it right back at me. I successfully dodged the bottle which then collided with a nearly-empty cup of coffee sitting next to my monitor. The coffee spilled into the back of the monitor, and the screen went black.
As any computer programmer will tell you, losing use of your (only) computer is an event that is nothing less than tragic. With all speed I took apart the monitor and dried out the spill. The picture slowly but surely came back once the monitor was turned back on. My roommate was relieved he didn’t have to buy me a new monitor, and I was relieved that I didn’t have to kill my roommate.
I have hundreds of funny clumsy/drunken stories to tell. One that springs to mind was when I was going out with this guy a couple of years ago.
We had been to the pub and consumed several drinks and on the way home, he decided it would be a great idea to give me a piggy-back…
So, I went to jump on his back (I’m 5ft 2" and he’s 6ft 4"), missed his neck and ended up clutching a handful of his hair instead. So (as gravity dictates), I fell backwards, bringing him down with me.
I cracked my head on the curb and couldn’t sit down for about a week… I also bruised a couple of ribs, as he fell backwards on top of me. He was uninjured…
And to think I always used to wonder why we split up…