I thought I got a Jack Russell Terrier, not a Porcupine Setter. Sheesh!
A pain shoots through my left big toe. I check it out. It’s a dog hair. And it’s stuck into my tender flesh. It only takes a second with a tweezer (or are they like scissors, and they are always plural?) and it’s gone. But still, a DOG HAIR that’s STUCK IN MY TOE!
In MPSIMS, that would be all, but let’s go further, shall we?
What was the oddest thing you’ve found stuck into you? (Leaving aside purposefull piercings, and sexual kink.)
Or, to open it up a bit…What was the oddest thing you’ve found stuck into you, or the oogiest thing you’ve stepped in/on?
I was shot once at point-blank range. I looked down and discovered to my complete surprise the projectile half-buried in the little crater it made in my unbroken skin. Just stuck there. I knocked it away and proceeded to inflict my smirking revenge on my assailant, who was just as shocked at my seeming invulnerability.
When I was about 5 years old, I was catching lizards on a piece of waste ground next to my home (I lived in Cyprus then), I was wearing ‘flip flops’.
Suddenly I noticed that my foot felt odd and slippery, so I looked down to see the point of a rusty nail protruding from the top surface of my foot - I had trodden on a small piece of wood with an upward-pointing nail and it had completely pierced my foot.
There was no pain until everybody strted making a fuss about it.
Later on that year (also while I was hunting lizards, I fell on a pece of cactus and ended up with one of the spines (they were like cocktail sticks) stuck completely through the web of skin between my thumb and forefinger, that did hurt.
The wily and elusive Warner Brother Lizard has been the downfall of many intrepid hunters. The way they leave boards-with-nails, cactuseseses, and other such tricks and traps behind them. You’re lucky they didn’t drop an anvil on your head, Mangetout.
My best friend’s wife was a hairdresser. She was getting hair stuck in her hands and arms all the time!
Once, while I was a summer-camp counselor, I was teaching my group of kids archery. You know the three feathers (the flight?) at the end of the arrow that stabilize it?
Welllll… One of them must’ve been loose, because when I let the arrow fly, the feather pierced the webbing of my left hand, between the thumb and forefinger.
I was in the lab at grad school (Electrical Engineering), and I was wire wrapping a project with a “cut/strip/wrap” gun. These wires are about the width of a mechanical pencil lead. The gun cuts the wire, strips the insulation, and wraps the wire around a metal post, all in a tenth of a second or so.
The end of the gun looked something like this:
____ _____
======< `---'
`-------------
The wire feeds through the little depression in the barrel, where there’s a blade and whatnot and out the thin end…
Anyway, it was late, I was tired, and for some reason rested my thumb in the depression as I hit the trigger. This resulted in the wire going straight through my thumb. Just the skin, really, but into the thumb, under the skin for 1/2 an inch, and back out again.
I stared dumbly at it for a second, then showed everyone in the lab, and then yanked it out. That hurt… but no blood.
My girlfriend is a chemical engineer. She was working with a gas chromatograph once, where you put chemicals in a syringe, and then inject them through a rubber stopper into the machine. I don’t know how she managed it, but somehow she accidentally injected herself with some chemical called cyclohexane. No ill effects, thankfully.
Sadly, no. Unless she’s keeping it secret even from me. Perhaps I’m the Lois Lane in this situation.
Although one positive effect is that it’s provided endless amounts of humor, at least to me…
Another story, a bit more mundane: A friend of mine dropped an industrial strength staple gun on his foot. The staple went through the top of his shoe, though his foot, and out the sole of the shoe.
When I was a wee 'bot; my brother and I thought it would be fun to chase each other through the house (with metal turkey skewers in our mouths, ala Dinosuar teeth.)
One of the wickedly sharp skewers fell out of my mouth, and pierced my foot. It didn’t hurt until Mom beat the stuffins’ out of me for being so foolish…Back in the fifties, children were to be seen, not heard. And bleeding on the carpet just wasn’t done.
One summer I came home from camp with a tick embedded in my upper arm.
My mother spotted the semi-subcutaneous intruder and freaked out. She dragged me out on the porch (she thought the light was better there) and dug the tick out with a hypodermic needle.
I don’t remember it hurting too much. What I do remember was that my Aunt Gloria came over to assist my mother with the tick extraction procedure. (They are both nurses and love to pick, scrape and pop stuff.) Aunt Gloria brought her two kids, and it became another Trademark Hysterical Blackwood Family Production. I recall being more embarrassed by having my mother and Aunt Gloria digging in my arm with a needle in front of people, than upset that I had a tick.
Stepped on a bee once when I was running barefoot across a clover infested lawn.
Accidentally stapled my thumb once. Fortunately it was just a regular hand-held paper stapler, but it went in all the way. Ouch.
Oogiest? That would be the time when I got up in the middle of the night (to go to the bathroom or something) and saw a small black object on the floor. I’m not sure what I thought it was, a piece of lint maybe, but when I picked it up – without bothering to turn on the light – it moved. Eeep! Gack. Gross. Ewww. It turned out to be one of those ugly multi-legged bugs (a centipede or something like that).
I used to be puzzled as to why I’d find pennies, paperclips, buttons and once, one of those jelly containers you get at restaurats in the shower at my ex’s house. His roommate used to fall asleep with his clothes on, and the stuff in his pockets would fall out and stick to him, and come off in the shower.
Rue DeDay, I am so happy to hear there is another person who has been stuck by a dog hair. I honestly thought it was only me.
The first time it happened, I thought it was a splinter, because I have ancient wood floors. I sat down and looked for the splinter. It wasn’t there. I get up and start to walk around, and it still hurts. I thought it must be a [sub]little tiny[/sub] splinter. I get my glasses and look again. I was about to give up when I realized it was freaking dog hair!
It has happened at least three more times since then. Damn dog.
Wicked Blue, I’m glad I could re-inforce you’re tenuous grasp on sanity.
[soothing voice]No, it’s not just you. It happens to everyone.[/soothing voice]
Really though, you get a dog and you think you know what you’re in for. Puppy pee stains, walks in the rain (not the good, romantical kind),puke on the carpet. Pets are alot like kids, only you don’t have to send them to college. But does anyone tell you they’ll skewer you with their freaking hair? Noooooo! You have to find out the hard way.
When I was 9 or so, I was screwing around barefoot (I rarely wear shoes in the winter, and try not to at ALL in summer-as I’m typing this, I’m at work, with my shoes off. I hate shoes.) and managed somehow to step on a 3" triangular, sharp, piece of glass directly with my heel. I swear I heard that sucker crunch when it got all the way in. Pulling it out with needlenose pliers hurt worse than actually stepping on it.
Few years later, I was practicing with my balisong (butterfly knife, if you don’t know the Tagalog word)and managed somehow…well, you know those bulgy veins on your feet? The ones that stick up like a python on a sidewalk?
I dropped it, point first, on one of those.
My thought process at the time was “OWW! Huh-huh, blood. Spurt, spurt, spurt. Cool! That’s probably not a good thing.”
At that point, my brain kicked in and I put direct pressure on it.
Than there’s the time I got shot, but that’s for another thread. Suffice it to say it was unpleasant.
A few summers ago, I stepped on and was stung by about four bees in just a few months’ span. The last time, the bee in question did not just insert his(?) stinger into my skin, but his entire back half - I had bee abdomen jammed in my foot. Hurt like hell to get out, but I guess it was worse on the bee.
In the fall of that same year, just after I’d bought The House Of Doom ™ and still thought it was a good thing, I wanted to do some celebrating with a bottle of wine one evening. It was white and room temperature, so I stuck it in the freezer to chill faster and then promptly forgot about it. Until the following evening. The contents expanded and shattered the bottle, but remarkably it had retained its shape. I carefully removed the shards of glass/solid wine combo and headed to the sink. Just few steps to go, the whole thing fell apart, and a giant honking shard of glass plunged into my foot. I managed to get the rest of it to the sink, and hobbled off to the bathroom to attend to my wound, which wasn’t too serious once the gushing blood was taken care of. Shortly after I called my mom and left a message in her answer box “Hi, it’s me, How do you get blood out of carpet? Call me back.”
When I was a kid, my sister stepped on a sewing pin and embedded the WHOLE THING in her big toe. Still there, as far as I know.
