When I was about 4 years old, my sister and I FINALLY convinced mom to get us a puppy. So we bring the puppy home, and I’m playing with it like a typical four year old would…basically torturing the poor thing, and it tries to get away. Well, of course I can’t let it go. I had just started a new round of torture. so Ilean pver VERY close to the puppy’s face to give it big kisses, and it snaps at me and bites. hard. it had managed to sink it’s needle like little puppy teeth all the way through my upper lip. Of course I react by jerking the puppy away from my face, tearing my upper lip clean in half, effectively giving myself a hare-lip. ouch. Well, one trip to the ER and 3 plastic surgeons later I’m back at home, and the puppy is back at the shelter…mom wouldn’t get us another dog for a good 15 years after that…
carrot story carrot story carrot story
Whatsa matter, Chief? Still haven’t gotten any? 
I thought about some of my really stupid scars, but think I won’t post them for now. They don’t compare with some of these anyway! :eek:
Oh agisofia, where are you? We’re waiting
::Nope. Still no episiotomy stories… ::
Whew.
One last point. Nice cleavage, Rach!
Me:
–tip of right little finger cut off when I was 3. I was trying to cut a carrot. Dr. sewed it back on, but it’s CROOKED! There’s a littly step in the side, along with the scars from the 7 or so stitches.
–Faint scar on the tip of my right thumb perpendicular to the nail. Knife closed on it, cut all the way down to the nail (I bite my nails; this was at the minimum length possible) It’s about .5 inch long on the fleshy side of the thumb
My dad and his brothers:
–Dad, age 12 or so: semicircle scar 1" in diameter at his hairline. They were swinging a pipe elbow joint on a rope and throwing it; my dad could never get it to go in front of him, so when his bro tried it, Dad thought it would be safer to stand in front of him. Needless to say, my uncle was better t it than my dad.
–Uncle: index finger paralyzed from trying to grad a Bowie knife away from somebody.
Damnit Chief Scott, I was just about to tell you all about my episiotomy scars…(smilies disabled)
The only stupidity scar I really have is one of those “wussy scars” that somebody else mentioned in this thread. At my school, we used to use erasers or fingernails. The scar isn’t that bad only because I chickened out before going too deep into the skin. My hubby, however, has a rather nicely shaped round scar on the top of his hand from a cigarette. Why anybody would purposefully burn themselves with a cigarette is anybody’s guess, but he and his friends all did it and they all have the same kind of scars on their hands.
I have a cousin who has never been accused of being among the brightest of girls. . . this extends to her choice of men.
One of her recent boyfriends was wandering around the house and decided to slide the open window shut. The problem arose from the fact that he was naked and somehow managed to shut the window on his own penis. I guess he nearly severed it. :wally
My cousin seemed to be more bothered by the fact that when the paramedics arrived they laughed at her boyfriend than she was by his stupidity.
The family was quite impressed when she told us all the story. We weren’t surprised when she broke up with him shortly after—maybe a few stiches can’t repair that 
That last story was almost as good as Chief Scott’s toilet story.
The “bent” of the above post is slightly different.
I’ve already been told I have to show my “Stupid Toilet Scar” tomorrow at the DopeFest.
That should be “grab” at the end of my previous post.
–Another of my dad’s brothers lost a kidney playing college football (ouch!)
I’m sure there’s more, but I can’t remember them all…
That could have been me, but I ended up with stitches in the back of my head. I assume there is a scar there, but since it’s under my hair…
REALLY STUPID scar #2…
I was in 2nd grade, and we had been learning about hot air baloons. I decided that I wanted to make one, and asked mom if I could light a candle. She let me*(she was in the same room…but feeding little brother, 1 month old. Oh, and it was Mother’s day)* and I proceeded to hold a paper napkin over the candle to see if it will float above the candle. poof As it burns, I proceed to run to the bathroom, screaming…did I drop the napkin? nope. Just ran. Ended up with 2nd degree burns on my left thumb*(which was my thumbsucking thumb*…and a lot of ice water to hold my thumb in…no doctor visit though…
#3
Shaving scar- first time I ever shaved my legs. Not knowing at all what I was doing-it’s not like anyone explains this too us, right?-sliced my ankle open, right over the bone. Didn’t want to admit what I had been doing, so with no band-aids in the house. I used toilet paper and duct tape, yes duct tape, to bandage it.
#4
Fall of '97, living in my first apartment. Had the day off, and was taking the trash out. I had broken a glass the day before, but didn’t think about the pieces being in the bag as I walked it out. I was wearing shorts, the bag brushed my leg. Thought I was ok, until I looked down and saw the blood running down my leg. Went back to my apartment, and proceeded to call a co-worker and ask if they thought I needed to go to the doctor-like they know what it looks like? Anyway, 5 stitches, and a tetanus shot later, I made it home again.
That’s not to mention the number of burn and knife scars I have from working in a kitchen and having to clean the flat grill…or the most recent one on my finger from reaching into the silverwear drawer and finding a good, sharp knife with my index finger…
Scar #1: Was jumping from the stairs onto a cushion. Below cushion was a concrete floor. Cushion got a little furthur each time. Scar on forehead, between eyes.
Scar #2: Dad was fixing a lamp, and left the cord plugged in with bare wire at the end. I climbed on his bench and grabbed it…
Scar #3: Friend and I play fighting, me with a (real) katana, him with a stick. Miraculously no injuries. While backing up, I lose my grip on the katana and it bounces off my leg.
Scar #4: Do not let go of handlebars when jumping speedbumps on a gravel road. Also do not wear shorts.
Scar #5: Bumped left hand on table while walking. For some reason it left a 1/2" scar.
Scar #6: Bumped right hand on table while walking. For some reason it left a scar.
Scar #7: Scraped arm on edge of whiteboard while walking, left two parallel 1.5" scars on my forearm.
Scar #8: Constellation of round burns from when I got drunk, took up smoking, and then decided to quit smoking by extinguishing cigarette on my arm. Multiple scars caused by friends wanting to see a replay.
Scar #9: When mom says “Don’t pick at it!”, believe her.
It’s gone now, but I used to have a big ol scar from one of those wussy tests. Friend rubbed away with an eraser for like two minutes before saying “You’re nuts” and giving up.
Here we go:
1.Riding on a bike through a pit of gravel:
So I was merrily riding my bike all over town and after a long day of this, I decided to go home. I was just about there when I noticed some gravel strewn accross the road. I had missed it because it was on the wrong side of the street to hit it when I was leaving in the morning. I thought, “Wouldn’t it be cool to skid though it, and send gravel flying (I was 7).” So I road into it, and that’s as far as I got. It wasn’t gravel strewn accross the road, but apparently the city was using gravel to fill potholes. My front tire went in and I flipped over the handle bars. My legs were so bloody, you’d think I was wearing socks. I still have some scarring on my knees. But the place where I still have a big scar is my shoulder, that his first.
Well, that’s all I can think of for now. I’ll be back to gross yall out again later.
But I have a blue spot on my forehead.
Why do I have a blue spot on my forehead? Because one day my brother and I (early teens) were playing by throwing a pencil back and forth. One throw went high and the pencil hit and stuck point first in my forehead. And stayed there until I pulled it out. Wow - accidental tattoo!
Ahh the scars of stupidity.
1-44: Pissed my sister off, she had really long nails, and she liked to dig them into my hands and arms. So now I have about 44 crecent shaped scars on my hands and arms (all from different occasions)
45: Walking on a planter box in front of Circuit City, mom tells me to get down before I fall. Whoops down I go, 4 stitches on my chin, lots of blood.
46: Sawing on a Manzanita bush with my Leatherman. Miss a stroke on the wood, get a bonus stoke on my hand, 4 half inch long scars right next to eachother.
47: I am scraping old tape off on a kiosk at my job at a different Circuit City, knife bites in, boss says “carefull, youll cut yourself” knife breaks loose, imbeds intself in the fleshy part of my hand, right between the thumb and index fingers. 2 stitches.
48: My leatherman again, for some reason, I decided to stab a refridgerator box with the serrated blade on my leatherman. Miss the fucking box(like a foot away from me) and plunge the blade into my thigh. Only about a 1/4 inch deep thanks to my keys that hooked the knife.
49: Work related again, I got a neat new knife from Gerber, the E-Z-Out, one handed opener. So I am messing around, flicking it open and stabing boxes(so I get bored at work) Well the last time, the blade didnt quite lock open, and it closed on my index finger, almost removing my fingernail.
50: Tossed a double edged boot knife in the air, try to catch it, realise the blade will destroy my hand I let it drop, Right INTO MY INSTEP! That one hurt, tiny little scar tho.
Well thats it for stupidity related scars.
Fnord, where do you live? I think I worked with you. A guy I worked with (I quit a few weeks ago) just LOVED knives, and used to work at CC.
–Tim
I’m 13, so I’ve stayed stupid-accident free–mostly. My worst one was at my bus stop, which is directly in front of a pharmasave (a chain of pharmacy). On the corner (about 10 feet away from the stop) is the entrance to the place, and it has an overhang supported by a sqarish metal pillar. I was walking across the street, towards my stop (and the pole), my head turned to say goodbye to a friend. I turned around just in time to walk DIRECTLY into the corner (luckily they were rounded) of the beam, and got a nasty goosebump (luckily, it was friday, so it was gone by monday). Man, did I feel stupid.
I’ve seen other people do dumb things, though. Like my step-brother and sister were fighting (as usual), while she was drying dishes. She got so angry, she slammed her hand down on the table–with a glass in it. The cut on her hand needed 4 stitches, and a lot of laughs driected towards her.
but I’ve never had stitches outside of oral surgery. Never broken a bone, either. Do have a couple of good scars from scrapes, etc., but nothing dramatic. One from catching the corner of a drawer with my knee, the other from falling off a bike when I was a kid and having my knee dragged along the pavement.
My MOM, on the other hand…let’s say she’s been on fairly good terms with doctors and ER’s a few times in her life…Oh, and my brother? Forget about it…broken the wierdest bones, and almost cut his finger off once trying to cut a block of cheese. Lost track of all his stitches and scars…