runtheplacered said:
There's just something weird about the feeling that the ground SHOULD be there.. but it isn't.
Damn, that would be like a GIANT version of the feeling you get when you take a step thinking there's one last stair, and there isn't...I hate that feeling. It's like the feeling of falling in a dream.
Albino Ninja said:
When I was three I slipped on a banana peel and fell on a dog, had to get stitches.
You, or the dog? I want to know what happened to the dog! Tell me about the dog!!!
Broken Blade said:
I had a new bunkbed back when I was about five or six. It wasn't fully assembled yet, so it was missing the side rail. My mom told me to stop rolling around in excitement or else I would fall off. I didn't stop rolling around in excitement. It was five/six feet to the ground.
I have a two inch scar on the top of my head. My hair hides it, though. I also have vivid memories of a bloody t-shirt, which might explain my mild hemophobia.
That's ridiculously severe for a fall of that size, I'm guessing you fell pretty much directly onto your head, or on really hard floors? I fell out of one in my sleep a few years ago, hit the ground with a huge thump and a cry of "FAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRK!" then got back into bed and went right back to sleep. Next morning I had no idea what people were talking about when they asked me if I was sore.
I don't have any funny scars, just boring ones, but I have inflicted some on my little brother. Best would have to be when we were playing lightsaber fights at about 10 and 6 years old, with bike pumps (the long ones that extend like
this). So to "turn on" the lightsaber you'd flick it away from your body holding the handle and extend it. He did his, I flicked mine facing him, and the bottom piece disconnected from the handle, went flying through the air end over end, and cut him right in the ear. At least that scar matched the one I'd given him a few years before, when I hit his left ear/side of his head with my handlebars while riding.
The other award I give for "most pitiful scar" is to a guy I know at university. He was doing work on the crocs we used to have on top of the Biol building and was taping their jaws shut for swimming observations, and he dropped one that turned around and immediately latched onto his hand. Took him a while to get it off, blood pouring everywhere, very deep scar. Sounds amazing when he tells the story, but since they were only juvenilles, the bite left a scar about 2cm long between his thumb and pointer finger. Not exactly the best follow up evidence when telling the ladies about your experiences with croc wrangling.