Ouch. That hurt.

The BBQ Pit
1

Yesterday (love was such an easy game to play, now I need… oh, sorry. That always seems to happen.)

Anyways, yesterday I was loading my tools back up as I had finished the project I was on. A new one starts Monday.

It was a perfect day, weatherwise, and I was gonna go to my bud’s house after this. I had borrowed a few tools of his and he had some mine, he had gotten his kids early for the weekend (yeah, divorce) and was gonna cook out dogs and play some games and just have a nice outdoorsy good time. I say all this too provide insight into my mood. I was in a good mood.

I was carrying the chopsaw out to the truck through the narrow little passage from the far recessed front door to the driveway. But, the plant people (yes, they are made of vegetable matter) had been there a few hours before, rearranging the landscape and shit. Yeah, I should’ve checked, or at least not been carrying something heavy and large without being to see exactly where I was stepping. But, it had no steps, just a steady slope, and there had been nothing there this morning.

But, halway down the passage, WHACK! I ran into something with my left leg. It was all I could do not to throw the saw and collapse in pain, but somehow I managed. I slowly back away and put the damned saw down. Then I could see what the fuck I ran into. A FUCKING CONCRETE PLANTER! Yeah, it added just that touch of greenery to the rocks and brick and stone, but FUCK! THAT HURT! Right below the knee on the shin bone.

How hard had I hit it? Well, my leg, my good leg! (I’ve broken the other one twice) now had a mountain range on it. Yeah a swelling bumb. I had broken the skin and it was bleeding a bit, too. Today, there is a large, discoloured knot on it. Damn it hurts.

Anyways, that doesn’t adequately describe how hard I hit the decorative concrete planter thingy. I broke it. Split it right down the middle. Anyone want to calculate the energy of that impact?

Since there were kids around, outside next door, I did not curse. The neighbor mom said she heard, THUD “Ouch, that hurt” as though Roy Batty had just been clubbed by Deckard.
I went to my bud’s anyways, and had a good time. Except for his youngest climbing on my lap and steping right on my new boo boo.

Soryy for the scylla-esque length of this story, btw, but I’m in a very Dopey mood right now. :stuck_out_tongue:

2

Dang! I’m impressed that you broke the thing. I would like to kiss the boo-boo and make it all better, but my lips won’t reach that far.

It is The Passion of the NoClue.

3

Ouch indeed. I’ve the exact same thing, well almost.

Back when I was working for the local museum (crosses self), I went zipping across the galleries for one reason or another. I can’t remember why exactly, but I do know that I was going full tilt.

Now, for a guy my size, full tilt doesn’t exactly involve huge amounts of velocity, but it does involve a whole heck of a lot of momentum. That’s where I ran (heh) into trouble.

As I majestically (read: spastically) hauled buttocks, I failed to notice the bench in my way. I blame this on the children . You see, our museum was very popular for the younger set, and there were always a few of the grubs hanging around. As far as the bench goes, it was built solid, low to the ground, and had been covered in the exact same material as the carpeting. Snipers wish they could blend this well.

So, the inevitable happened. Contact was made. My forward velocity was dramatically reduced as my left leg was rendered useless, if by useless you mean one giant transmitter of BLAZING AGONIZING PAIN. Of course, instantly curses sprung forth to my lips, almost without thinking. Luckily, I was in the process of biting my tongue. Not figuratively, mind you, I had my teeth buried. This was good though. Remember the grubs I mentioned? Had I let fly with any of my choicer expressions, fear the my job would have been in great jeopardy.

remember how I mentioned velocity and momentum earlier? I had a good reason. At about t +.5s of impact, I was left moving forward at a somewhat lessened, but still respectable velocity. I was also very off balance. In an attempt not to make my situation any worse, I managed to stay right side up. This was accomplished by hopping on one foot for about 4 meters. I think it actually touched ground three times at most. I was finally and thankfully stopped by a conveniently placed wall. I think the dent is still there.

Now stopped, and adrenaline levels slowly dipping back towards my regular level of slightly animated tree sloth, I was left only with the last lingering remnants of the pain from my shin. It wasn’t too bad. I think I only blacked out once. Maybe twice.

Later on when I inspected the damage, I saw a curious thing. It appears that when I caught the bench, I caught the corner dead square on my shin bone. It did not leave a bump. It left a noticeable pit. A pit which I still bear to this day. It’s about the size of nickel, and I still have exactly no feeling for about a two inch radius. As for the pit itself, there is about very thin layer of scar tissue (~ 1mm) and then nothing but bone. While the shin is not known for it’s cushioning layer of flesh, as I’m sure NoClueBoy can attest, it just feels really creepy. One minor cut, and I could be staring at bone, Gahh…

4

When people show me bruises I just can’t resist poking them.

:pokes NoClueBoy’s owwie:

See?

5

what the heck is with that smilie?

6

[Bart Simpson]

Ow! Quit it.
Ow! Quit it.
Ow! Quit it.

[/Bart Simpson]

7

In high school, (mumble) years ago, I was in marching band - spent three years with a bass drum strapped to me. I managed, while wearing said bass drum, to march directly into a landscaping boulder. A 2.5 foot tall landscaping boulder. Which had been there since the school was built, and which I had seen and walked around every day of my high school life.

Someone else had to catch my drum, now rolling down the hill, while I tried to right myself and pretend the scrapes and bruises I had suddenly acquired weren’t there, and that I had, in fact, MEANT to run directly into a giant rock, and that the drum falling off of the harness while my arms and legs flailed wildly was only part of a carefully orchestrated ballet which I had staged for everyone else’s amusement.

8

When I was a teenager me and my buddies would play hide-and-seek on a 5 acre farmyard (the farmer had a huge farm, but the yard with barns, sheds, garages, etc. was about 5 acres or so. The Seeker had an ATV with a big spot light. We would dress in all black and play at night with about 15 - 20 people. It was fun. Now to show the relevance to this topic.

One night, me and another guy are racing to a distant hiding spot to begin the cat and mouse game with the ATV Seeker, we were in a full sprint, neck and neck. I happened to look over at the other guy when he ran into a fork for a front-end loader on a tractor. These things weigh about 300 pounds, stand about knee-high, and are not visible in the dark :slight_smile: The image of my running-mate completing a full somersault about 5 feet in the air is one that I hope I never forget. :slight_smile:

9

One winter many a year ago, the heat to the apartment I was living in was out for about a week. A winter in Calgary is not the time you want to have the heat go out, especially during a cold snap where the temp can go below -30C. Anyhoo, I was up at 5:30am to go to work one very dark morning and, half-asleep, stumbled into my kitchen to get a drink of water. Oh, did I mention that I had turned on the oven that night to keep the water pipes, and myself, from freezing? I walked straight into the oven door I had left open the night before to heat the room. Ever kicked a stove with your shin? I would not recommend it. I shifted the stove about 6" out from the wall. I still have the scar. Later that day the landlord and I had a ‘talk’ about the heat and the rent.