Lexodus Is Hit By A Bus
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I'm going to regret asking, but what?Erana said:
OT: Once when I was...Some age, I can't remember, I was walking down some stairs in my house, and I tripped and broke my arm. The priority bit was that I lost the sucker I was nibbling on.
That was a good nibble....
Me and a friend were goofing around and it somehow turned into a proper fight. He then managed to flip me over, and I landed on my right shoulder with a sickening crunch. The fight stopped abruptly and almost seemed like it never happened as he was really concerned and asked if I was alright. It was pretty obvious from the crunch and the lancing pain whenever I tried to move my right arm that something was broken. Turned out it was the collar bone. >: This happened about a week before my final exams at High School, and it was my writing arm. Possibly would have been okay, but a few days later, I was heading down the stairs and slipped. So my natural reaction was to use my dominant hand to grab onto something, which is my right. Suffice to say, that didn't go so well and according to the doctor I saw afterwards, I managed to break it in two more places because of the strain. GO ME!
Another one was I managed to dislocate my right knee at about 3am Christmas Eve morning while changing my bed. :'D And two more times after that, both in the hospital. Once because of the moron pushing the hospital bed right after I got to the hospital and had the knee popped back into place. You see, I'm 6'7" and was a little too big for the bed I was put on, so my feet were pushed up against the bars rather uncomfortably. And you know how those guys open the doors by ramming the bed into them? The force of the impact shot right up my legs and out it popped again.
The second time was during physiotherapy. The guy made me do some weird stretching manoeuvre which he assured me wouldn't be taxing, and would make me feel much better. It popped out of place with a horrible noise. I would have been pissed as all hell because it hurt so damn much, but the look on the guy's face was fucking priceless. XD
EDIT - Forgot about the time I was out cycling when I was about 13. I stood up to start pedalling and the left pedal came clean off as I pushed down on it. I completely and utterly lost my balance and fell straight to the floor, cracking my head on the curb. My mom and dad had just gone out, and I was in too much pain to think right I guess, so instead of going next door to ask to use the phone or something, I ended up sitting on my front garden for about two hours waiting for my parents. Turns out I gave myself a major concussion that day. One of many.
tl;dr - I should not be allowed outside. Or be allowed to change my bed. Actually, I should just stay sitting very still for the rest of my life.
Another one was I managed to dislocate my right knee at about 3am Christmas Eve morning while changing my bed. :'D And two more times after that, both in the hospital. Once because of the moron pushing the hospital bed right after I got to the hospital and had the knee popped back into place. You see, I'm 6'7" and was a little too big for the bed I was put on, so my feet were pushed up against the bars rather uncomfortably. And you know how those guys open the doors by ramming the bed into them? The force of the impact shot right up my legs and out it popped again.
The second time was during physiotherapy. The guy made me do some weird stretching manoeuvre which he assured me wouldn't be taxing, and would make me feel much better. It popped out of place with a horrible noise. I would have been pissed as all hell because it hurt so damn much, but the look on the guy's face was fucking priceless. XD
EDIT - Forgot about the time I was out cycling when I was about 13. I stood up to start pedalling and the left pedal came clean off as I pushed down on it. I completely and utterly lost my balance and fell straight to the floor, cracking my head on the curb. My mom and dad had just gone out, and I was in too much pain to think right I guess, so instead of going next door to ask to use the phone or something, I ended up sitting on my front garden for about two hours waiting for my parents. Turns out I gave myself a major concussion that day. One of many.
tl;dr - I should not be allowed outside. Or be allowed to change my bed. Actually, I should just stay sitting very still for the rest of my life.
I once got mugged by a couple of pretty super cool ruffians. They stole my Subway, and that was the only reason I felt particularly grieved.Lexodus said:
I guess Subway is just that good eh?
it was a beautifully Saturday afternoon and i was in town with some friends (i know... i am as surprised as you are) when a bus ran over my foot... i never felt it but when i went to the cinema, an artery in my leg collapsed and i was rushed to hospital, my friends never budged from their seats... (well it was gran turino my second fav. movie to date)
i didn't care that the bus ran my foot over or the fact that my leg was in spasms gasping for oxogen, i wanted to see gran turino for the 3rd time...
i got my revenge on one of my friends when he was having a murmour (i think thats how you spell it, where your heart skips one beat and your whole body goes into spasms)by giving him the phone when i rang 999, he was screaming and jittering all over and couldn't answer...
i didn't care that the bus ran my foot over or the fact that my leg was in spasms gasping for oxogen, i wanted to see gran turino for the 3rd time...
i got my revenge on one of my friends when he was having a murmour (i think thats how you spell it, where your heart skips one beat and your whole body goes into spasms)by giving him the phone when i rang 999, he was screaming and jittering all over and couldn't answer...
oh i forgotscornedbythenine said:
when i was 5 i was riding a pw50 and hit a pot hole. i went over the handles and was ran over by the bike 3 TIMES before it stopped on top of me, my dad and my mates dad were in histerics.... pricks
i was just mad at them i was in no pain... probably shock
I was once in a car accident that by all accounts (witnesses, police, parents, friends) should have killed me. The story is a bit long so I'll break it up into the important parts.
The Set Up:
This happened during the last semester of my grad year in high school. That semester I had a rather heavy course-load with Calculus 12, History 12, Law 12, and.... um, Senior Concert Band. As part of my band class that year all the bands (Jr and Sr Concert, and Jr and Sr Jazz) went to perform in Cuba for a week-and-a-half. The band program had been saving up for two years for this so I wasn't about to miss it regardless of my other classes. The trip was fantastic: a fun and culturally enlightening experience that is irrelevant to this story. The only things that are important are that before we caught the plane to Cuba I bought a $173.60 fedora in Vancouver, and that I did absolutely no homework while on this trip (because, to quote my band teacher, 'You can only bring so much luggage and it's friggin' Cuba, come on!').
As expected I came back from Cuba a week behind in all my classes. History and law weren't much of a problem, the work was easy but there was a lot of it, but calculus was an complete *****. It was made all the worse by the fact that the teacher was away sick the entire week after my return. So I had an entire week of long and sleepless nights trying to catch up on three time intensive classes while simultaneously working four afternoons a week at Subway (ironically enough).
The day of the crash was a Sunday where I had a short shift (11-4) at work. It wasn't any worse than any other day at work, but with all the crap I had to deal with in the last week it seems it was the straw that broke the camel's back. When my shift was done I said 'Later,' to my friends still working and hopped in my parents' minivan that they let me drive to work and school.
By the time I was driving the 40km trip home I was utterly exhausted.
The Main Event:
In the 20 minute drive it takes to get home from town I was about 4-5 minutes from my destination. My eyes felt as heavy as the Sun and they burned just as badly from exhaustion. I was going around a downhill right corner when my endurance finally caved. I closed my eyes for no more than a second.
My eyes shot open again when I felt the van shaking. I was headed for a 15 foot drop off the side of the road into the ditch. I ripped the wheel as hard as I could to the left, but it was too late. The van flew over the edge and fell the 15 feet into the ditch and was now sliding on its right side. I narrowly missed a telephone pole by a matter of inches. I then crashed into a 2.5 tonne boulder at a speed of about 90-100km/h. The collision lifted the van into the air and out of the ditch to land (right-side-up) a few feet away on to the fence on the property on the side of the road. The van had been spun a full 90 degrees from the angle it hit the boulder and the boulder itself had been knocked five feet back in the mud from the impact. The front end of the van was shattered. The front axle was ruined and the tires were sticking out at weird angles. The windshield was shattered and the right-side sliding door was ripped off it's hinges. There was dirt and mud everywhere.
The Aftermath:
A couple seconds later I came to my senses. I pushed the remains of the airbag out of the way and moved to get out of the van. I was stopped short when I discovered my left foot was pinned between the brake pedal and the remain of the front end of the van. I managed to escape by untying my boot and slipping my foot out, then prying my boot out after. I would later remark (slightly hysterically) at the hospital that had I been going a little faster I probably would have snapped off my foot at the ankle. My father standing beside me doesn't appreciate the remark. When I got out of the van witnesses and the residents of the home who's fence I crashed through were already running to see if I'm okay. One of them is a off duty paramedic who quickly examines me and determines I have no serious injuries, just scrapes and bruises.
Everything seems a little blurry which is when I realize I lost my glasses. This leads me to realize that I'm not wearing my new fedora anymore either. I quickly glance around and see it sitting on the ground near the van. It's spattered in dirt, mud and broken glass. I pick it up and angrily mutter my first words since the accident, 'Damn it, I ruined my new hat!'
tl;dr - People tell me I'm lucky to be alive. I'm inclined to agree, but I'm still angry about the fedora.
The Set Up:
This happened during the last semester of my grad year in high school. That semester I had a rather heavy course-load with Calculus 12, History 12, Law 12, and.... um, Senior Concert Band. As part of my band class that year all the bands (Jr and Sr Concert, and Jr and Sr Jazz) went to perform in Cuba for a week-and-a-half. The band program had been saving up for two years for this so I wasn't about to miss it regardless of my other classes. The trip was fantastic: a fun and culturally enlightening experience that is irrelevant to this story. The only things that are important are that before we caught the plane to Cuba I bought a $173.60 fedora in Vancouver, and that I did absolutely no homework while on this trip (because, to quote my band teacher, 'You can only bring so much luggage and it's friggin' Cuba, come on!').
As expected I came back from Cuba a week behind in all my classes. History and law weren't much of a problem, the work was easy but there was a lot of it, but calculus was an complete *****. It was made all the worse by the fact that the teacher was away sick the entire week after my return. So I had an entire week of long and sleepless nights trying to catch up on three time intensive classes while simultaneously working four afternoons a week at Subway (ironically enough).
The day of the crash was a Sunday where I had a short shift (11-4) at work. It wasn't any worse than any other day at work, but with all the crap I had to deal with in the last week it seems it was the straw that broke the camel's back. When my shift was done I said 'Later,' to my friends still working and hopped in my parents' minivan that they let me drive to work and school.
By the time I was driving the 40km trip home I was utterly exhausted.
The Main Event:
In the 20 minute drive it takes to get home from town I was about 4-5 minutes from my destination. My eyes felt as heavy as the Sun and they burned just as badly from exhaustion. I was going around a downhill right corner when my endurance finally caved. I closed my eyes for no more than a second.
My eyes shot open again when I felt the van shaking. I was headed for a 15 foot drop off the side of the road into the ditch. I ripped the wheel as hard as I could to the left, but it was too late. The van flew over the edge and fell the 15 feet into the ditch and was now sliding on its right side. I narrowly missed a telephone pole by a matter of inches. I then crashed into a 2.5 tonne boulder at a speed of about 90-100km/h. The collision lifted the van into the air and out of the ditch to land (right-side-up) a few feet away on to the fence on the property on the side of the road. The van had been spun a full 90 degrees from the angle it hit the boulder and the boulder itself had been knocked five feet back in the mud from the impact. The front end of the van was shattered. The front axle was ruined and the tires were sticking out at weird angles. The windshield was shattered and the right-side sliding door was ripped off it's hinges. There was dirt and mud everywhere.
The Aftermath:
A couple seconds later I came to my senses. I pushed the remains of the airbag out of the way and moved to get out of the van. I was stopped short when I discovered my left foot was pinned between the brake pedal and the remain of the front end of the van. I managed to escape by untying my boot and slipping my foot out, then prying my boot out after. I would later remark (slightly hysterically) at the hospital that had I been going a little faster I probably would have snapped off my foot at the ankle. My father standing beside me doesn't appreciate the remark. When I got out of the van witnesses and the residents of the home who's fence I crashed through were already running to see if I'm okay. One of them is a off duty paramedic who quickly examines me and determines I have no serious injuries, just scrapes and bruises.
Everything seems a little blurry which is when I realize I lost my glasses. This leads me to realize that I'm not wearing my new fedora anymore either. I quickly glance around and see it sitting on the ground near the van. It's spattered in dirt, mud and broken glass. I pick it up and angrily mutter my first words since the accident, 'Damn it, I ruined my new hat!'
tl;dr - People tell me I'm lucky to be alive. I'm inclined to agree, but I'm still angry about the fedora.
I was playing in a tree with a few friends when I was tiny, and we had stickswords that we had found, slightly modded and hit each other with. I fell out of a tree and into a load of stinging nettles, and my whole left side was "bubbley", but in the fall my awesome stick had snapped. Remember being gutted and turning it into a sort of sentimental dagger.
Well, I used to work at a go-kart track in what is easily the worst city to drive around in Canada. So I'll pick motor vehicle accident #13.
We had a Go-kart called 13. It was number 9, but we called it thirteen, because of all the karts on the track, it always either crashed A)first or B)the worst.
On an unspectacular day much like this one, I was doing my job, looking out for crashes or people about to cause them. It was a slow run, full of adults who hated driving fast, with the exception of one or to tweens. So I decide to use this slump to take a quick choco break. Hastily I leaped off the overpass I had perched on and landed on the asphalt with a dulled thump, my mind on the SKOR bar I would soon be masticating. Suddenly I hear a sound that all of us at the Kart track dreaded. Metal on metal. I snap out of it just in time to see a 40 something year old Indian woman perch her Kart on the middle railing that separates the 2 sides of the track. At first, I was simply worried whether or not the woman would be insulted if I asked her to get out of the kart so I would have a hope in hell of lifting the damn thing.(I've been slapped for this by many a pissed of female,and in one case a man...)
Then I noticed the quiet, the near complete lack of loud and noisy rumbling I had grown accustomed to over the months. This meant 1 of two things. The time was up and the customers were being shown where to park their karts, or they were all in a group on the other side of the track, and coming around......suddenly the first kart came zooming out from behind the hill that was impairing my view of the track. Nimbly the drivers avoided the stuck kart. Frantically I raced to dislodge the woman and her kart, but no matter how hard my skinny figure strained, it simply would not budge and inch..........and I'm getting bored writing this.
tl;dr I got fuckin smoked by a 12 year old girl and her go kart. I actually had to leave work to rest....
We had a Go-kart called 13. It was number 9, but we called it thirteen, because of all the karts on the track, it always either crashed A)first or B)the worst.
On an unspectacular day much like this one, I was doing my job, looking out for crashes or people about to cause them. It was a slow run, full of adults who hated driving fast, with the exception of one or to tweens. So I decide to use this slump to take a quick choco break. Hastily I leaped off the overpass I had perched on and landed on the asphalt with a dulled thump, my mind on the SKOR bar I would soon be masticating. Suddenly I hear a sound that all of us at the Kart track dreaded. Metal on metal. I snap out of it just in time to see a 40 something year old Indian woman perch her Kart on the middle railing that separates the 2 sides of the track. At first, I was simply worried whether or not the woman would be insulted if I asked her to get out of the kart so I would have a hope in hell of lifting the damn thing.(I've been slapped for this by many a pissed of female,and in one case a man...)
Then I noticed the quiet, the near complete lack of loud and noisy rumbling I had grown accustomed to over the months. This meant 1 of two things. The time was up and the customers were being shown where to park their karts, or they were all in a group on the other side of the track, and coming around......suddenly the first kart came zooming out from behind the hill that was impairing my view of the track. Nimbly the drivers avoided the stuck kart. Frantically I raced to dislodge the woman and her kart, but no matter how hard my skinny figure strained, it simply would not budge and inch..........and I'm getting bored writing this.
tl;dr I got fuckin smoked by a 12 year old girl and her go kart. I actually had to leave work to rest....
Ran against a box of beerbottles with my foot, broke the two outer toes. That was on a sunday, and I decided I wouldn't be going to the hospital that day because I couldn't be bothered. They were broken anyways, a day more wouldn't do any harm.
edit: yes, sober.
edit: yes, sober.
Two years ago when I'd just learned snowboarding I managed to injure my hand. At this moment it felt really bad, hurting during every movement.
Thing was I wasn't really angry about this, but about the fact that I had to stop and go to the hospital. At the end it was just a sprain and I was back on the slope the next day, but I'll never get back this half day I've lost there not snowboarding...
Thing was I wasn't really angry about this, but about the fact that I had to stop and go to the hospital. At the end it was just a sprain and I was back on the slope the next day, but I'll never get back this half day I've lost there not snowboarding...
Not a crash, but it was really odd. I had just got a subway (sure are alot of these in this thread) and was walking home when a man walked up to me. He looked about 18, he stole the subway and ran off. I was really pissed and sligtly perplexed when I saw him walking back. He just muttered "sorry" and gave me my sandwich back. Very odd experience, and he didn't even do anything to the sub... Atleast, it didn't look like it...
I was walking through Birmingham on my way to the Mighty Boosh Live at the NIA with some friends when some dick in a suit walked past and punched the bag containing my Subway. What kind of an animal punches someone's god damn Subway?!
That's nothing, getting hit in the head by one of the guard's rifles during a marching show is way worse. But I was more worried about how much our score fell from that. It was a very bad day anyway.Spiner909 said:
I once did trolley jousting ( in a trolley getting pushing at someone else in a trolley), misse dthem, carried into a hedge wich to my knowledge WAS a hedge up until I hit something hard and brick built then got catapaulted out the trolley and crumpled against a car window. I was fine but I was pissed that the trolley was totaled.
On that note, I broke my writing wrist in a spar, then twice more when it was being reset to the point where they had to rebreak it again to set it back properly... and I then got run into by a midget, knocking it permanently off. That's right, it's healed back, as that was a couple of years ago, but in the wrong position. As a result, I cannot bend my left hand inwards and have to reach around with my whole arm when I'm writing.Alkestes said: