Self-Depreciation Alley

[Slick]

Ok OK..I swear this will be my last "stupid" story!

This time it wasn't me! And this story coming from a chick....is just sad..I am a woman, but I can not STAND women drivers!

So, my friend is off to have her nails "done"...she drives a Mitsubishi Eclipse, and believe me, she is road rage queen of America..... so, she's off to her nail appointment, stop and go traffic, the usual California stuff....so she's checking her make up, playing with the radio....then her purse falls on the floor..so she leans over to pick it up.....and BANG!!!!!!!!!!! She runs her little ricer right under the back of a Ford Explorer! ROLMFAO. She put a slight mark on the spare tire of the Explorer, but the damage to her car was 2 dented flip up headlights, big dent in the hood, broken light....and ANOTHER insurance claim! (this was her THIRD accident that was her fault).

I really wish she'd give up driving!

Another incident I remember, of her and the same car, is when her boyfriend dumped her. She stalked him, found him, and as he got in his van, she pulled along side, he went to leave, and she rammed his van with her little Eclipse! Broken passenger side mirror, dent in the door and another insurance claim and a restraining order! Where do i meet these people? -alcohol-

[Mr. Pickles]

Oooh, I forgot about the ricer story. Sooner or later I'll post one of my boneheaded stories, as I have a ton, but other people are too hilarious. I was waiting behind a little pimped Civic, which was behind a jacked up monster F@rd, and we were all coming off the freeway and waiting at a light. Well, the ricer decided they had enough waiting to turn, even though we were all in the right turn lane. So they pull out and around to the right, but then their view was blocked by the big truck. Well, the truck guy couldn't see the little Civic on his passenger side. He had and opening, and went. He proceeded to put his right rear tire (had to be over 40" at least) up the fender and just about onto the hood before stopping. The rear of the Civic popped up and the whole car shook violently, then the Ford backed off. It just crushed the front of Honda, blew the radiator so coolant was pouring out, the car was a mess. And the truck was untouched. I was DYING in laughter!

[Crazy Geologist]

Yeah a pretty similar thing went down in my parking lot last year. I go out to my car to go to work one morning and there is a lowered honda blocking in me, and my neighibor has a Toyota tacoma with 33"s on it. So I start looking around, trying to find the owner of this vehicle, to no avail. I found some of his friends, who claimed that he had parked and gone surfing (we lived right on the seacliff) well, around that time mark came out to leave for a court appearance only to find that he too had been blocked in, though not as bad as me. Mark did not miss a beat though...hopped in, fired it up, into gear, rear wheel up and over the hood and front drivers side fender. came awful close to tipping, but mark just dumped the clutch, and was off. I called in late to work so that I could ride my bike in, and was fortunate enough to witness this guy return to his car after his surf session. He threw the most impressive temper tantrum I have ever witnessed a grown man throw. pathetic. inconsiderate @$$hole. And he still regularly parks there, complete with a BFG MT pattern slightly dented into his fender. I wonder if he even realizes how he could have prevented the whole incident.

[Precise1]

These are great ! Impressive (sort of) ! Wonderful turn out ! Keep them comming ! The spring escaping through the garage door is wild, I'm just glad no one was in the way ! It would have punted them into next week...

Wrecking (to some degree) your own 3 cars in the driveway is precious !! Loved the writing style, I had a mental movie going on.... Hope it didn't cost too much.

Destroying your work place, then being told about the 'vandals' later, um , well, how did you keep a straight face ?

The ricer used as a traction pad had me rolling, I could totally see it happening ! Kinda reminds me of when I was getting on the freeway in my old 720 P/U 4x4 (read accelerating BUT slowly) and a ricer civic type thing was on (read IN) my a$$ like he would push me or something. He was so close and sooo low I could just see his roof over my tailgate about 30 feet back. When I looked forward (at about 50MPH) the cars ahead were in evasive action mode and the guy ahead of me stood on his brakes, so I stood on mine, kinda curious which would come first. Ricers license plate smacking my pumpkin, or my hitch ball going through his windshield to say HI ? I'll give him credit though for his reaction time and the cars breaking ability; he never touched me. I couldn't hear anything over the howl of my nose dived light truck's 31' locked tires but when I looked back I couldn't see him at all ! Poor little zipperhead musta been focused on that 2" of eye level chrome and had incentive...

My landlady's POS, dirtbag, useless, waste of oxygen son used to park me in occasionally (real bad) when I had the old truck. NEVER park in an OLD truck, its like pissing off the cook before you get your food! I wanted SOOO bad to smash into his car repeatedly until I had enough room, but I needed the place to live. I settled for kicking (yes, kicking repeatedly) the back door frame in 10 second intervals until someone came out. After the house booming and shaking for 60 seconds, he usually showed up looking more stupid than usual, and I'd tell him to move his car or else. Life is so trying some times.

A friend was being cute one day in her honda accord. She was ahead of me on the way to school and we were stopped as a light, she being first in line. She backed up till she hits my bumper then shoved some more... I didn't really understand, WTF was my only thought, but after repeated caresses my reply was WRONG cutie ! I took my foot off of the brake of the Plymouth Fury, and used it to mash the gas to the floor for about 2 seconds. This was enough to shove her 1/2 way through the intersection with about 5 feet between bumpers as I stopped before the crosswalk. Yes, it was a manual, and she was in gear; she said the acceleration rocked her back enough to pull her foot from the clutch. Her car still ran fine, a testament to honda/japanese design. I think she understood what 400 FT/LB of torque means after that. If ya want to bump baby, there's better ways...

I can't reply to all the great stories so I'm just going to enjoy them, and not waste time by writing 'tidbits'. I'm gonna dig deep and find a real winner of lapse of judgement for all of you. Wierd thing is I know they are there but they dont pop right up; seems to be some sort of mental blockage either designed to kill me, or to convince myself I ain't as think as dumb I is !

 

Bernard

[Mark]

This is a long story. Please bear with it. It's my best, I think...

 

Setting the scene: It's the mid 1990s and I'm in my early twenties. It's not been very long since I left the USMC and returned to Australia to live (again). I'm in pretty good physical condition at this point. Supposedly.

 

I was looking after my mother's house while she was away on vacation in Europe. Remember that.

I've decided to rent some B-grade horror movies and spend an evening watching them and getting drunk with my best buddy, Dallas (We're still best buds, despite his once accidently shooting me in the face with a .22, but that's another stupid story). Anyway, I'm a few six-packs in (and Dallas is on his second liter-bottle of Bundaberg Rum) when I decide to grab another coldie from the kitchen. I stand up, sway slightly, and walk across the loungeroom in a surprisingly straight line. The door into the kitchen opens inward. I grab the door handle and give it a good yank. The door opens violently.

Problem is, my front foot's too far forward and the door hits it doing about 70 and bounces closed again.

Problem now is, I've already got my head through the doorway and the door slams on my head. Hard.

It's a dazzling blow, and I'm seeing stars, literally. All I can hear is a 'whooshing' sound in my ears and Dallas (he sounds very far away) laughing his @$$ off. My vision returns and I'm standing there, swaying slightly and blinking at him as he sits in my Mom's armchair trying desperately to laugh, breathe and not spill his drink. He's going quite purple.

Unsteadily, I walk balk to my armchair and sit down (before I fall down). Dallas get his laughing under control and we continue watching the movie. After a few minutes I feel better.

About 15 minutes later, Dallas looks across at me and says "Jeez, Mark. Did you know that you're bleeding like a stuck pig?" I didn't. I reach up and touch the spot where the door hit me, just above my temple. My fingers come away bloody. I know that you're wondering why I didn't feel it running down my face. It's because I lost the feeling in my facial skin about 8 beers previously. "Bugger," says I, stoicly.

So I go into the bathroom and sure 'nuff, the whole left side of my face and neck is covered in blood. I grab some gauze and tissues to clean it up and sit on the corner of the sink, looking into the mirror. Dallas is standing there, too, about 6 feet away. After a minute or two of cleaning up I realize that I'm getting cold and my vision seems a little dim. Shock.

I say to Dallas: "Mate, the problem with having naturally low blood pressure (I do) is that you feel faint every time you lose a bit of blood." In the time it takes for the soundwaves carrying the word 'blood' to travel from my mouth to his ears, I faint.

 

*Interlude: From Dallas' account of events, told to me later:

Apparently, he saw me faint and thought I was going to fall forward, hitting my head (again) on the edge of the bathtub. So he tried to catch me. He missed.

I crumpled straight down, with my head lolled backwards. I hit the back of my head on the edge of the sink at 9.8 meters per second per second and the impact bounced my whole body forwards. My head next struck the edge of the bathtub (still accelerating at 9.8 meters per second per second) and finally, hits the floor with a loud splat.

Dallas was horrified. There's blood everywhere and his mind kept replaying the three loud bangs that my head just took. Seeing me unconscious on the floor, he sprung into action and made sure I was still breathing (I was). Then he tried to pull me into the 'Recovery Position' (same as 'Coma' position). The only problem there was that at this moment, still unconscious, I had a Grand Mal (sp?) seizure and start flailing around wildly. (I'm 6' tall, 200 lbs, and physically strong, remember?) End of Interlude.*

 

A couple minutes later, I come around and I'm really disoriented. I can see that I'm lying on a bathroom floor, but I have no idea how I got there and I really have no idea why Dallas is in the corner of the room, flat on his @$$, with his legs pulled up to his torso, his arms crossed in front of him defensively, and a look of Real Fear written large across his face.

"You okay?" he asks. This is the original Dumb Question. Don't laugh, you've probably done it to someone, too..

I know that I'm not. I know that I've got a head injury happening here and that's bad.

"Are you okay to drive?" I ask him.

"No, I'm pissed". (charming Aussie expression meaning 'drunk-out-of-my-small-at-the-best-of-times-brain')

"Better call an Ambulance mate". He does.

Then he returns, carefully helps me stand, helps me walk out to the loungeroom and sits me in an armchair. He gets me a glass of water and a cool wet towel to wrap around my head.

The next thing I remember is the Paramedics walking in. They look surprised to see Lawrence of Arabia, sitting calmly in an armchair, drinking a glass of water and bleeding quietly into his turban.

Dallas explains to one of them what happened while the other one checks me out. He's shining the torch in my eyes and looking at my head. Then he says to his colleague something along the lines of "He seems okay, surprisingly. Pupil dilation is fairly normal. Might be concussed, though."

The next thing he said would rock my world:

"What's your name?"

I had no idea.

My heart stopped and my blood froze.

(Even now, a decade later, my throat closes as I type this).

With the realization that something so ingrained and automatic as my name was not immediately within my mental reach came the next thought:

Brain damage.

Oh holy siht, Jesus Christ. I've got Brain Damage. You cannot possibly imagine how frightening this is, unless you've experienced it.

The two paramedics exchange a look I hope to never see again.

Oh@!*% oh@!*% oh@!*% oh@!*%oh@!*%oh@!*%. Now you've done it Mark.

Mark!!

"Mark!!" I say a bit loud. "My name's Mark."

The paramedic looks at Dallas for confirmation. He nods. Then the paramedic starts with the questions again:

"Is this your house?"

"No. It's my mother's." I marvel that I remembered that when I didn't know my own name a moment earlier.

"Where's your mother?" he asks.

I draw another blank. Brain Damage. I'm scared.

"She's out," I manage to say.

"Where?" The second paramedic and Dallas are standing about 10 feet away, silent.

I'm thinking really hard. I'm concentrating like hell, trying to remember something that I should just automatically know . Then I remember.

"She's in Norway!!"

The paramedics look at each other and say: "Let's get him to the hospital".

Dallas pipes up and says: "NO! She really is. She's there for a holiday." They take some convincing. Dallas is starting to laugh at their reaction.

They keep an eye on me for another few minutes before they have to go because someone, somewhere, needs them more than I do.

Dallas and I finish watching the video. We laugh like lunatics, remembering the looks on the paramedics' faces when I said 'Norway'. (We still laugh about this). Neither of us drank any more that night, though. In fact we both cut down a bit after that.

In the morning I had a spectacular headache.

I had angry bruises to both temples (from the door and doorframe - one with a nasty gash in the center), another on the back of my head, dead-center (from the bathroom sink), another across the forehead (from the bathtub) and a mild one on my cheek (from the floor).

Dallas had various minor bruises from trying to help me during my seizure. He forgave me, though.

 

I didn't do any permanent damage, thankfully (not so's you'd notice, anyway). It was, at the same time, one of the funniest and most frightening events of my (fairly eventful) young life. I experience a whole range of emotions just remembering it.

 

It's pretty funny though, I reckon.

 

Peace, Out,

[Precise1]

Ok, so my claim of shutting up didn't last one post... What the heck, never been good with rules anyway...

Mark, GEEZ, what you have to go do that for ? Didn't anyone tell you 4 serious shots to the head in a month (much less 15 minutes) is a BAD idea ? darn, glad you are OK (are you?) and that amnesia stuff is enough to make anyone whimper. I've never been there, and never want to be. The recount of the bathroom collapse really made me wince; I once jumped up after napping in a hot bath and promptly headrushed all the way to passing out. On the way down I knocked the sink 45 degrees sideways with my cheek bone and then used my chin as landing gear on the tile floor. Waking up slumped over the edge of the tub and looking around trying to figure it out was surreal so I somewhat understand what you described. Why I didn't bite my tongue off, break my cheek or jaw bone, get knocked back into the tub and drown, etc I'll never understand. One MOTHER of a headache though, but I'm sure your's beat it hands down. Guess thats why bathrooms are the most dangerous place in the house. Someone aught to outlaw them !!

 

Bernard

[joeytattoo]

Well I have a new story from today that will degrade myself with now I went to pick up a new tail light and voltage regulator today for the pathy and have the alternator looked at . coming home from getting my parts and svc. done my rig started to act reel funny and then put put sputter bang you get the point so I made it home and started to see what was wrong .So I got to thinking it was my timing that had jumped no timing belt no so the alternitive .Knoing my rig was in the shop and they were trying to put my parts on that I bought to do my self I thought they messed with my car. pssd so I called and began :furious: pssd you no good cheating a$$h@#es W.T.F. did you do to, and on and on . so after I got hung up on I remembered I tuned it up last week .So I looked at all that was done and found that the little bolt /screw that holds the rotor button in place backed out and was just sitting there I put it back snuged it down and bang!!! good as new so don't ifeel like an a$$.

[Mr. Pickles]

Nice! When I had my Prelude, it started running really bad one day. It would be fine, then sputter/vibrate, no power to speak of. I'm going WTF?! So I'm checking everything, fuel filter, wiring connections, yada yada. Its the middle of winter, I'm broke as a joke, and have to get to work. So I drive it for like 2 days like that, with the problem getting worse and consistently doing it. So I go back to check things over and I lean over and rest my arm on the motor. *Flop* goes one of the plug wires. Put it back on and all is well. What a jacka$$! Hello! Always check the obvious stuff first!

[Precise1]

And now for something completely different. This one popped up from childhood. I was maybe 10. I had spent the night a friends house but the next morning he had choir practice. No biggie, I'd just hang out and intertain myself for the hour. The church was backed to undeveloped land, and me being a nature enthusiast went to the rear of the property and poked around. About 1/2 way up a slope I saw 2 old empty 55 gallon drums with both ends removed laying on their sides. Cool !! I go over to check them out and develope ideas. Nothing unusual about them, but when I pushed it over there was a 4+ foot gopher snake enjoying the radiant heat from the steel drum in the sun. Cool ! I grab it just behind the head. (FYI a gopher snake is decent sized constrictor, much like a corn or indigo snake in other parts of the US and can get well over 6' long, 3" in diameter, and being a constrictor, fairly strong and they will bite, constrictor style, not letting go willingly. They look somewhat like pacific rattlers, but bigger, somewhat different markings, and different head; I knew what I was doing.) The rudely awakened snake promptly did its thing, coiling around my skinny little arm pretty much up to the shoulder and begins @!*%ting on me(side effect of constricting). The pressure is pretty strong, not dangerous though, but I can't really bend my elbow. Anyway while I am checking out this beautiful, pissed off specimen I kick over the other drum, and there lies an even BIGGER gopher snake. Cool !! So I grab it also, and it behaves like the first. So here I stand arms wrapped with serpents, getting (I am a dork for trying to use profanity here) on. Cool !

It only took me a few moments to realize what I had done. The snakes were holding me as well as I had them. I could not let go of either snake's "neck" with out being painfully and repeatedly bitten. I could not bend my arms nor drop them to my sides or the snakes would vent their anger on my thighs. I could only hold them out front, like a zombie, or to the sides, like a cross. Did I mention these are fairly heavy for a runt of a 10 year old boy to be holding like this ? I knew time was getting short because my hands were red and begining to tingle. I was not going to hurt them, that is just plain wrong, it was MY fault this happened. I needed help, just someone to hold one snake head for a moment; I needed my friend.

I don't really have to describe what happens when you walk into a church and interupt a prepubescent coed choir class walking like a zombie with two (relatively) large and pissed off snakes coiled about your arms. My friend saw me first, his eyes went very large and he began to shake his head while singing. I began nodding and kept walking. Thats about when the screaming, running and fainting began...

My buddy was no stranger to snakes so all I had to say was "I'm stuck, grab one..." and he did. We ran outside and back to the barrels where we let the snakes go. They of course took off, but at least we brought them back home. My buddy gave me a very long and wierd look, then ran back inside for some more singing.

I sat there with arms that looked like barber poles from the snakes, waiting for blood to return to my hands and stop tingling, feeling embarrased and sorry for myself. That lasted about 4 minutes.

Looking at the barrels, then the slope, I had an idea !! Get in the barrel and roll down the hill !!! Cool !!! No, NOT Cool, as I was about to learn. I jump in one, got it rocking and start rolling. The first 20 feet was FUN ! Then as it picked up speed the gentle bouncing grew into violent slamming. Of course I had braced my self inside but within 50 feet was completely akimbo. For the next hundred feet or so I was maniacally playing a circular gong from the inside, mainly with head, knees and elbows. I was gaining valuable insight to circular motion, centrifugal force, and vector acceleration. One particularly nasty slam tossed me part way out of the drum, but try as I might I could not get all the way out; some force had me pinned against the side of the barrel and I didn't have anything to lever against. The remainder of the ride was spent smacking my head on the grassy hillside once per rev. The grand finale was the end of the ride. I believe it was a bay tree, I know it it hurt, a lot ! With a sudden, final and very loud BONG the FUN was over. I scrambled out of the drum and tried to stand up. Never did make it... All I achieved was what felt like a slow motion cartwheel with no hands and wound up in a crumpled heap in the grass for 10 minutes or so before I was ready to try again. It took that long for the earth to get back under me and stay that way. Now this is when the snakes should have shown up to get even, but maybe they saw the adventure and figured that justice/karma had been served. I do know that my friend had been keeping an eye on me through a window and saw the whole ride; maybe he figured to leave me for dead...

Somehow, I suffered no real injuries other than bruises on 50% of my body, but I was invited by the church staff NOT to come back, EVER !

 

Bernard

[Mr. Pickles]

Nice Bernard, a 2-for-1!

[BigMike]

lol, heres one that happen no too long ago.

when i was 13 , just over 6 years ago, i had moved in to my first house. really fun for me, a nice december afternoon. we had just finished moving in and i had grown curious of the nieghborhood, so i jump on my mountian bike and ride around. i ride to the near by corner store which at the time was located on a 2 lane street now a 6 lane road. we road back me an my bro ride back and see some other boy makin a ramp out of near by building materials, some 2x4s and bricks from the house being built. the ramp was easly 15 long and rose up about 1.5 feet. a nice slope, wide and pleanty of distance. so i watch for a couple mins as the other guys jump it, and i think *wow thats preatty cool i wanna do it* so i ask them if the mind that i join in, no we dont care they say. rember its a mountian bike, not a light one but one made out of steel , nothing fance just a steel mountian bike. i ride back a long long way and start pedeling like crazy, gaining speed. i reach the ramp and i can feel the wood under the tires, so i fly right off the end of the ramp and il thinking *man this is fast, sweet!!*, oh no not sweet at all. so im flying right and it feels like forever, thats when gravity kicks in. i swear i had gone up like 3 feet in the air. but heres the catch, you gotta land right. something i didnt. i feel that heavy hiney bike go head first and i think oh sh!t , i hit that concrete so hard, the bike slows but i still keep going, and going right over the handle bars. i reach out leting go of the bars like super man. cept unlike superman, i cant fly. i hit the concrete palms first, and tumble about 7 feet. i feel all dizzy lookin around seeing the twrill like a top. crap im lucky i say to my self. i sit up and put my left hand down to get up and scream out it pain, it hurt so fskcin bad, i let up so quick, i try again to get up with my right up and scream again. my brother runs in side and come back out with my grampa and gramma. he asks me whats wrong and between sobs i tell him i think i broke something. so he trys to get me up putting his hands under my arm pits and i scream. he lets off and starts probing around my shoulders and pushes in my left then my right and pushes in with me screaming and says *yea its broken* . so they get me up, and i start walking to my house, about 70 yards away. i go inside and my moms screamin *what the hell were you thinking* , she gets my dad and we all pile in to a HB kingcab and speed off to the hospital. the whole way there they give the good ole 3rd degree talks. i get to the hospital and sit in a wheel chair for 3 hours in a drowsy state till some one helps. turns out i had broken 3 bones in my left wrist and my right collar bone. to top it off when i was getting prepped for a cast, one of the male nurses had one of the biggest drop of saliva i have ever seen fall on my leg and run down. ugh :oops: :furious:

[vengeful]

Ok....here goes....

 

Disclaimer: This story contains alcohol and some drug references. If you do not feel like hearing this, please don't read it. However, I'm past some of that now...

 

I call this one: One-Fifty-One, I Night To Forget.

 

This story begins on a Thursday afternoon, when my buddy (and current roommate) Adam calls me up and tells me that we need to get "Krunkasaurus Rex" tomorrow night. I reply with a "Sure, why not!" Well, little did I know that "Krunkasaurus Rex" would involve what it involved.

 

Friday rolls around, and I fail the test I had miserably. So, needless to say, I was in the mood to get drunk, really drunk. However, I had no idea just HOW drunk I would end up getting. (For those of you that read TuckerMax, I think this would even put him to shame!)

 

So, here comes Friday night, a night that I only somewhat remember. Adam and Brandon show up with some supplies. A 1.0L bottle of Bacardi 151, a Gravity Bong (for those of you that don't know, this is a Mary-J smoking implement that involves water and a milk-carton.). Being your typical college student, I had a Beer Pong table set up in the basement with a fully stocked beer fridge full of Labatt Blue (probably about 75 in there). And a nicely stocked bar complete with Jose Cuervo, Jack Daniels, Wild Turkey, Fris, etc...

 

If you can't see where this is going...please turn away now...

 

Anyways, we start out the night with a friendly game of Beer Pong, which, naturally, turns into 3. Mind you, there were 3 of us, so we had to play 2 on 1. And when we play Beer Pong, we play it 3D (or Beeramid as some call it, involves 10 cups). And of course, I was the solo player. So by the end of that I was already buzzing pretty good.

 

Then Adam has the bright idea to pull out the 151 and 6 shot glasses. Why 6? You ask. Well, here's his bright idea. "Take a shot of 151, and then a shot of Jack Daniels as a chaser. After the 151, the JD will be like water!" Being the idiots that we were, we thought this might be fun. Well, it was, until the bottle of Jack Daniels was gone.

 

We must have taken at least 6 shots of 151 and 8 shots of Jack Daniels each, on top of the beer from the Pong games. At this point, we're falling down drunk. Absolutely destroyed. This was about 10:15PM. Then, out comes the G-Bong. 3 hits each, and none of us can feel our bodies. I honestly thought my heart had stopped and I was dying! LOL.

 

The next thing I remember, was waking up in the bathtub, with my head in the toilet bowl. Why I was IN the bathtub, who knows. Adam woke up sitting cross-legged in front of the other toilet with his chin resting on the edge of the bowl. And Brandon....well....I don't really know what happened to him that night.

 

Lesson Learned: Don't mess with 151!

 

I've got more stories....

 

Here's a Nighttime Wheeling Mishap

 

I got a hot tip from a guy in my apartment complex about this time last year about a nice, sloppy, gooey mud trail about 2 miles from school. Well, it was 3PM at that point, and I was hungry, and had some stuff to do. By the time I had time to go, it was dark, and 5:30. Well, we all know that you SHOULDN'T go down an unfamiliar trail alone, let alone in the dark. Well, I did just that. Ended up hitting a tree, twice (same tree, once on the way in, and once on the way out...). And getting it stuck at a 30 degree angle. It was so stuck, that my roommate at the time's HB 4x4 couldn't yank me out. I had to leave it there overnight. Go back the next day and it takes another 5 hours of digging, pulling, pushing, prodding, yanking, etc to get it out.

 

Lessons learned: Don't wheel alone at night....dont' wheel alone down trails you've never been. Puddles/holes don't seem that deep at night.

[Precise1]

Ouch Vengeful, that made me want to throw up just reading it (as I take the last shot of Sauza). Just glad that you (and others) were able to purge successfully, if you know what I mean. Too many young adults go no farther due to excess (and lack of understanding what it actually does), but I'm not one to preach, just warn. My 2 experiences with 151 include my friend dribbling/choking a BURNING shot (you can imagine the aftermath), and waking up in a friendly ditch with little stomache lining left... Thank you for the disclaimer, and vague references; nothing posted here reflects the NPORA site at all. Yeah, know what you mean, been there. As for hitting the same tree twice, well, darn those buggers; the nerve of growing somewhere and holding still !!

BigMike, all I can say is OOOWWWWW !! I've wiped out on bikes (petaled and motorized) in almost every conceivable manner, and hurt like heck from it, but for some wierd reason, never broke ANY bone in my life(other than my nose, but then, I didn't break it...). I don't know how it compares to dislocations, but I can only imagine what 4 broken bones, left and right, feel like. I bet you test the waters before you jump these days !

 

Excellent stories people, keep them comming; I know we are not out of fuel yet !!

 

Bernard

[Mr. Pickles]

Not that this is particularly bone-headed or anything, but yesterday I convinced myself that its a good thing I'm not a lefty. In a single day, I managed the following. Hooked my finger during a failed attempt at fishing. Tried to catch the cat who isn't supposed to be outside after I accidentally let her out, and when I grabbed her in a bush hanging out with a neighbor's cat, she flipped out, clawed me, then I scraped the hell out of my forearm on a branch while pulling her out. She got away and ran right back inside. Finally, I was putting up Christmas lights in the dark and managed to run my hand over something, not sure what, opening up a nice bleeder in the area between the thumb and index finger. The right hand and arm, however, escaped unharmed.

[Mark]

A quick wincer...

 

I'm about 13(ish) and playing baseball with my friends across the street.

Andrew hit the ball on the roof and I'm the tallest, so I volunteer to climb up and get it.

The house is single-storey with a flat tin roof. So I climb up and chuck the ball down. Then I try to jump down.

The roof is about 12' high. I'm about 5'5" tall. So the exercise goes like this:

 

1. Sit on the edge with lower legs hanging over.

2. Place hands flat on edge or roof, either side of butt.

3. With hands, push butt off of roof and drop and try to land on feet.

 

I'm sure you've all done this, yeah?

 

ANYHOOW, I don't realize that a galvanised roofing nail is protruding about a quarter-inch, beneath my left hand.

 

I PUSH and drop and STOP!

 

I'm dangling by my left hand. Not hanging on. I'm actually hanging from the roofing nail that's stuck in the palm (heel) of my left hand.

I hang there for a couple of minutes before I manage to dislodge myself.

 

There wasn't a neat hole in my hand, either. It was a big, angry tear, about 2 inches long and a half-inch deep. I lost a lot of blood from it at the time.

I'm 29 now and I still have the scar, plain as day.

 

My 'friends' thought it was hilarious.....

 

 

 

PS: Am I the only one here who's broken their nose while sitting in the drivers seat, trying to remove a stuck steering wheel that suddenly became un-stuck?

C'mon, someone else must have?

Surely?

[Precise1]

Mark, you are the sole reason there are aerosoled bits of pizza in my keyboard, up my nose, and in my sinus cavity.... While I'm sure others have broken their nose unsticking a stuck steering wheel, you are the only one that I know of. But then, I can see exactly how that would happen... Oy !!

 

B

[Slick]

OK. Time to tell the boyfriends story! So...(this is before we got together).. he's zoomin around in a friends dune buggy right..showin off and bein cool....and his passenger decides he has to go to the bathroom.....sooooooo..he bee-bops in the direction of the bathrooms (brick buildings I might add)..doin about 30 mph....he gets close..hits the breaks....nothing happens....he tries again..then he stopped.

He stopped because by then he had HIT the BRICK bathroom wall doing about 25pmh! Needless to say, he got 6 stitches in his head, knocked out 4 teeth..and had to dislodge his face from the steering wheel which was now actually bent in the OPPOSITE direction to it's original position before his face ate it.

Needless to say..he went home and built his OWN sand rail...now with a Chevy 350 in it and about 500 ponies pushin her! ( I put extra roll bar padding on it for "safety's sake")

[Mr. Pickles]

Mark, what is it with baseball and nails? When I was about 11 or 12, I was playing and slid into base. Felt a nasty pain, only to find a nail that was living in the grass was now driven into my knee. Me being freaked out, I pulled the thing out to see that it went in quite a ways. Being that the family was broke at the time and having no insurance, and my knee was still attached to my body, no doctor trip for me. I remember it hurting like hell, but eventually I could walk ok without it hurting. Good old America with the fabulous state of our healthcare and public service!

[Mark]

Pickles,

 

That EXACT thing happened to me!

Except that as I slid home, it was a small, razor-sharp chip of concrete, not a nail.

And it didn't get me in the knee. It got me directly in the left buttock.

Was with the same friends as the other baseball game, above. They REALLY thought this was funny.

I sympathize, dude. I really do.

I went home and Dad stuck a band-aid on my butt. Probably should have had stitches. Still have the scar.

 

 

(Now that I think of it, I have a few scars, actually......)

 

Someone else's turn:......

[Mark]

C'mon folks. We can't let this thread die.

 

Share your shame...

[Precise1]

Absolutely NOT Mark I have enough to keep this going by myself !! Just been busy the last few days.... Here is a quickie.

 

I live in a small cheap comverted basement, trying to save $ to buy a place or move somewhere I can. It has 1 low beam and 1 low doorway that I eventually learned do not accomodate someone 6'1"; I eventually got sick of having a sore head. About a year ago, one nice warm sunny day, I was puttering around the place, rocking out with the stereo cranked, just generally feeling spunky and in a good mood. For some reason (which I cant remember-Wonder why...) in my boundless exuberance I LEAPT across the room, and only made it half way. Mid air with my head slightly down I said hello to mister beam and caught the edge of it with my forehead at about the hairline. I had enough momentum for my feet to rotate from under me to before me, kinda looking like the floating person magician trick. Unfortunately, the magician was not present, and gravity took over. I did a perfect backflop from about 4 feet or so, with 0 forward motion. Laying there on the floor, taking a moment to reflect on recent events, I was looking straight up at Mr Beam, and could see some strands of my long hair pressure welded to a noticable dent in the beams edge. Thats when I started to feel the numb/tingling sensation on my head. Oh @!*%e, Oh ishet, OH frag was what I was thinking as I got up slowly, testing out my neck. I calmly walked to the bathroom, expecting to see a nasty scalp wound. The last thing I wanted to do that afternoon was drive to the ER, covered in my OWN blood to get my head shaved and stitched. One look told me... NO HEAD WOUND !!! No gushing blood, no split scalp... WTF ??? Yes, a nice rising lump with an oozing abrasion across it but that was all. COOL !! I took two advil, went to the freezer and pulled out the chunk of stainless steel I keep in there just for special moments like this (works GREAT for burns also...) and put it on my head. Then I turned the music down; it was giving me a headache. Now I walk around the place like a hunched old man and cant wait to move !!

 

Bernard

[Mr. Pickles]

HAHAHA! My old roommate in college did that at work. We both worked in the dorm kitchen, and he went running along out the back entrance. Mind you, he's about 6'3". Had his hat on backward, and managed to catch that little metal button tab thing on the door jam as he went under. Did the whole legs under, fall to the ground thing. But the metal thing did its damage, ripping his scalp and requiring some staples to hold it together.

[hardwaretoad]

WOW ! I'm starting to feel almost smart after some of the postings in here...

 

The last couple make me think of how many times I've thought I had clearance to go under something with a hardhat on...

[Reido]

Last summer on a 4xing trip a friend of mine got stuck right in the middle of this narrow mud bog. So as we are getting the straps set up and all that planned out, a ranger full of 6 20 somethings pull up and watch / talk. As we get ready to pull the truck out my buddy who is stuck asks me to check the passenger side of his truck for any spots of good traction, logs, ect. So I jump in the bed of the truck have a look around, tell him there's nothing but mud over here, and get ready to get out of the truck to start the extraction. Well I decide to just hop out of the bed onto the dry solid ground not 3 feet from the side of the bed of the truck. I didn't realize that my boots were caked in mud, so as i jump my feet just slip out straight behind me. I land with my stomach across the rail of the bed and roll over the edge, and do a face plant into the dirt and rocks. I see stars and feel my heel touch the back of my head at the same time. I pop right back up not too badly hurt, but as soon as my head clears I see a couple of my friends, the ranger full of people and some 60 year old guy all doubled over laughing at me.

Not my finest moment.

[Precise1]

At the tender age of twenty I was raking leaves in my moms yard and for some reason remembered the old cartoon ploy of someone stepping on the tines of a metal rake and getting knocked silly by the handle. Well, lying not 10 feet away, tines up, was a metal rake.... TIME TO EXPERIMENT !! Sort of a real life 'myth buster' episode... So after slowly, cautiously testing, and determining that yes, a rake can actually behave like that, it was time. I slowly stepped on the tines a few times to determine the path of the handle, catching it in my outspread hand. OK, now for the real thing... I stepped down fully, and watched the handle rise up like a cobra on meth. I swear I could hear it whistling through the air as it clipped the fingers of my hand and continued unimpeded.

CRACK.

Rake handle to the forehead....

Yes, it is exactly like in the cartoons. Yes, it is also possible to see stars like in the cartoons, but instead of a neat coronet its more like glitter on the inside of your eyeballs which makes it extremely hard to balance, much less stand upright. Once the celestial bodies faded, I did the only logical thing possible.... I looked around to see if anyone had witnessed my experiment. Nope, I got lucky...

To this day I will flip over rakes if I see them laying tines up. Hoes also... I never experimented with them, merely extrapolated the probable outcome.

Sometimes I think if someone wanted to 'off' me, all they would have to do is hand me some tap dancing shoes and point me to the nearest mine field...

 

OK, keep them comming gents !! I am supprised that the (ex)military poeple out there dont have a good boot camp/training story to tell...

 

Bernard