I hit myself in the leg with a sledgehammer...

I hit my thumb with a hammer this weekend
Not hard enough to bruise it , but hard enough for me to yell"OWMOTHERUCKER!!!" and cause the wife to come running to see if I was still alive or not:p
 
Nothing major:

A scar from a rocket engine landing on my arm while burning

A scar from jamming the claw end of a hammer into my wrist while trying to pull a particularly stubborn nail

My messed up fingernail from slamming a steel door on it


My wife, on the other hand, fileted her arm with a dive knive during our drysuit class :egads: amazingly missing the muscle and blood vessels, but making a 4" slice requiring 23 stitches
 
Drool-Boy said:
I hit my thumb with a hammer this weekend
Not hard enough to bruise it , but hard enough for me to yell"OWMOTHERUCKER!!!" and cause the wife to come running to see if I was still alive or not:p

Phone in hand, dialing the lawyer to find out how much insurance she had on you?
 
ChikkenNoodul said:
Nothing major:

A scar from a rocket engine landing on my arm while burning

A scar from jamming the claw end of a hammer into my wrist while trying to pull a particularly stubborn nail

My messed up fingernail from slamming a steel door on it


My wife, on the other hand, fileted her arm with a dive knive during our drysuit class :egads: amazingly missing the muscle and blood vessels, but making a 4" slice requiring 23 stitches

ouch. How did she manage to do that?
 
The summer after high school, my friend Dave and I used to ride dirtbikes alot at his grandpa's hazelnut farm. There were 4 to choose from- 2 real dirtbikes and 2 on/off road bikes. On this particular day, the dirtbikes were out of commission for some reason, so we were on the on/off road bikes.

There was a place where the tractors and heavy equipment were parked that was cut out of a bit of a hill, that ended up making a pretty decent jump if you had the balls for it- it was about 4 feet high. We decided that we had the balls for it that day. We cut a little bit of the grass down and started riding up and down the same spot to make the dirt hard enough for us to ride on it and keep traction on the way up. We watched each other ease up the hill a couple times before it was too much for either one of us to take. The teasing began.

For about half an hour, every time we went up the jump, the other was yelling at us. "Pussy!!" "Get some air you fag!" On and on. "Come on you puss, give it some gas!!" I yelled at Dave as he piddled his way up the hill. He landed a teeny little jump, skidded to a stop, turned around and yelled at me, "I'd like to see you do it any better fucker!" "Fine!" So I decided that I would.

I got a good long run at it, and about halfway up the ramp, goosed the throttle a bit more than I had before..... and it kicked the bike STRAIGHT up in the air. Not good. I started falling off the bike and let it go. Fell on the ground on my back and the bike fell down right on my left leg, just above my ankle. Except the only part that landed on my leg was a footpeg, so all the weight of the bike was concentratred in that one little spot. And it really hurt.

Dave came running over and pulled the bike off, and asked me if I was okay. "Yeah, I think so." And then we looked at my leg. It wasn't really a cut so much as it was a scrape, but it was already swelling. "Fuck! Your leg man...." as he helped me up. Couldn't walk very well, but I could at least walk enough to get to the car and head home. Iced it and gimped around for a couple weeks after that.

Shitter is, I still don't have any feeling in or around that spot, and it's dented in from where the motorcycle landed on me.
 
BigDov said:
The summer after high school, my friend Dave and I used to ride dirtbikes alot at his grandpa's hazelnut farm. There were 4 to choose from- 2 real dirtbikes and 2 on/off road bikes. On this particular day, the dirtbikes were out of commission for some reason, so we were on the on/off road bikes.

There was a place where the tractors and heavy equipment were parked that was cut out of a bit of a hill, that ended up making a pretty decent jump if you had the balls for it- it was about 4 feet high. We decided that we had the balls for it that day. We cut a little bit of the grass down and started riding up and down the same spot to make the dirt hard enough for us to ride on it and keep traction on the way up. We watched each other ease up the hill a couple times before it was too much for either one of us to take. The teasing began.

For about half an hour, every time we went up the jump, the other was yelling at us. "Pussy!!" "Get some air you fag!" On and on. "Come on you puss, give it some gas!!" I yelled at Dave as he piddled his way up the hill. He landed a teeny little jump, skidded to a stop, turned around and yelled at me, "I'd like to see you do it any better fucker!" "Fine!" So I decided that I would.

I got a good long run at it, and about halfway up the ramp, goosed the throttle a bit more than I had before..... and it kicked the bike STRAIGHT up in the air. Not good. I started falling off the bike and let it go. Fell on the ground on my back and the bike fell down right on my left leg, just above my ankle. Except the only part that landed on my leg was a footpeg, so all the weight of the bike was concentratred in that one little spot. And it really hurt.

Dave came running over and pulled the bike off, and asked me if I was okay. "Yeah, I think so." And then we looked at my leg. It wasn't really a cut so much as it was a scrape, but it was already swelling. "Fuck! Your leg man...." as he helped me up. Couldn't walk very well, but I could at least walk enough to get to the car and head home. Iced it and gimped around for a couple weeks after that.

Shitter is, I still don't have any feeling in or around that spot, and it's dented in from where the motorcycle landed on me.

I remember my brother, my future wife, a female friend of my brother, and myself all went sledding/tubing at a large hill near our house a few years back. Being the competitive guys that we are, we dared each other to take a tube down the hill and off a jump. Mind this this was a pretty long and steep hill.

So my brother goes down first, hits the side of the jump and gets a little air. I don't know if he missed on purpose or just pussed out, but I knew I wasn't going to let him beat me. So I take off down the hill and hit it dead on. I don't know how high I got, but I think I could have easily stood up and then some. I lost the tube and landed on my belly, knocking my glasses off and the wind out of me. Everyone came running down to check on me. I was fine, better then fine because I knew I had beat his ass. I guess some of the kids at the top of the hill were discouraged from hitting the jump after that, so I also did a public service as well.
 
BigNev said:
I remember my brother, my future wife, a female friend of my brother, and myself all went sledding/tubing at a large hill near our house a few years back. Being the competitive guys that we are, we dared each other to take a tube down the hill and off a jump. Mind this this was a pretty long and steep hill.

So my brother goes down first, hits the side of the jump and gets a little air. I don't know if he missed on purpose or just pussed out, but I knew I wasn't going to let him beat me. So I take off down the hill and hit it dead on. I don't know how high I got, but I think I could have easily stood up and then some. I lost the tube and landed on my belly, knocking my glasses off and the wind out of me. Everyone came running down to check on me. I was fine, better then fine because I knew I had beat his ass. I guess some of the kids at the top of the hill were discouraged from hitting the jump after that, so I also did a public service as well.


:lol: that's awesome :)
 
BigNev said:
I remember my brother, my future wife, a female friend of my brother, and myself all went sledding/tubing at a large hill near our house a few years back. Being the competitive guys that we are, we dared each other to take a tube down the hill and off a jump. Mind this this was a pretty long and steep hill.

So my brother goes down first, hits the side of the jump and gets a little air. I don't know if he missed on purpose or just pussed out, but I knew I wasn't going to let him beat me. So I take off down the hill and hit it dead on. I don't know how high I got, but I think I could have easily stood up and then some. I lost the tube and landed on my belly, knocking my glasses off and the wind out of me. Everyone came running down to check on me. I was fine, better then fine because I knew I had beat his ass. I guess some of the kids at the top of the hill were discouraged from hitting the jump after that, so I also did a public service as well.

I think I remember the tremor of you landing.
 
My body's apparently fairly sturdy so this is a complilation of the worst injusries I've ever sustained:

As a kid living in Puerto Rico, my brother and I were very competetive, we were very much into skateboarding at that time. There was an extremely steep hill that we wanted to race each other on.

We took off, and I had an easy lead (as at that time I mastered aerodynamics and making myself as fast as possible) Unfortunately, I was new to skateboarding and didn't know the effects of speed on a cheap skateboard (had a Variflex skateboard at that time) So I hit somewhere around 20 mph (I told you it was steep) and the board starts to wobble like crazy. I know what's imminent, so I lean over to get near the curb.

As I get closer, the board can't take it anymore and I wipe out. Part of me hit the grass, the other part slid accross the asphalt scraping up my body. Mild road rash.
 
fly said:
I think I remember the tremor of you landing.

Yeah, it was on the local news. Thats when they started earthquake proofing some of the houses in the area because of the newly discovered smiley fault line.
 
Living in Arizona, we had a Radio Flyer Wagon that we used to roll down a hill. My brother at that time thought we could go together (you should be noticing a theme here). Well he gets me in the wagon and starts to push me.

Everything is going well and as planned. I then feel my brother standing up. I look back in time to see him jump out of the wagon. The way he jumped was using the side of the wagon as leverage to get a good jump. I look forward as the wagon starts to tip over and rotate to the side just in time to see a fire ant hill.

As the wagon flips, I land smack dab in the fire ant hill and proceed to get bitten across 75% of my body. Had my brother not jumped, we would have just rolled right through it.
 
Living in Kansas, my brother and I were playing tag football with a bunch of our friends.

My team was on offense. Seeing as it was 4th down and no one ever believed in punting, we decided to do a running play as it took 2 passes for a 1st down. I become the designated running back and start the end around. Things are working beautifully. Then hand off is perfect, I get around the defenders and start to go vertical to rush in for a touch down.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see my brother got a nice position running diagonally and I can see that he's going to catch me. I prepare to attempt to do a dodge move but his massive body (we were both a little overweight) makes it unable for me to do it.

Instead of tapping me with both hands (as we had done the entire game) he decides to tackle me by grabbing my waist and spinning me around. As my feet leave the ground, I look where I'm about to land.

He releases me and my body starts to roll right into..........a doberman.

The doberman wasn't too happy and decided I could use a pound or two less of flesh in my arm.


I still have the scar.
 
damn gypsy, you deplete all the resources in one state and move on to the next leaving behind a trail of carnage
 
thrawn said:
damn gypsy, you deplete all the resources in one state and move on to the next leaving behind a trail of carnage


I assume that the gypsy comment was to me?

I'll leave out for now stuff that happened in NC, Florida, Virginia, and Ohio.
 
My cousins and I had a ritual fishing trip each and every year, usually during July. We'd go camping and hiking, but mostly fishing. Good time to be assholes and run around like a bunch of witless fucks.

So this particular camping trip was right after July 4th. My dad had an 'in' where he worked and would just score assloads of fireworks, all illegal here in Oregon. Can't even have firecrackers here. Anyway, I had at least 5 full bricks of firecrackers with me on this trip. For no other reason than I just had them. Take a few and throw them in the fire every now and then, in the air, in someone else's tent, whatever.

One night, I got it in my head that it would be really fun to just light a whole brick. So I did. Sounded like a war was going on out there. We're all getting a kick out of it, so I throw another brick on the pile. Woohoo. That was almost too much, and it started to get boring after a while, so we went to bed.

In the morning, it was crazy- there were piles of firecracker pieces everywhere. I started looking through them finding some that hadn't gone off. Alot of them still had their fuses and everything...... some of them didn't have one at all..... some of them had little tiny fuses. The ones with fuses, we lit as normal, the ones without we threw in the fire and let 'em go...... the ones with little tiny fuses, a little tougher. Find the willing guinea pig to hold a firecracker, someone else to light it and let the hilarity ensue. Right?? RIGHT!

So the willing guinea pig- me. The lighter- my cousin Jack. We got it figured out pretty good- I'd stand with the firecracker in between my forefinger and thumb, arm back ready to throw, and he'd light it. Worked great. For about the first 20 or so. There was one that was reeeeally short..... went off barely out of my hand. It kinda hurt, but not much. Made the ears ring a bit, and my fingers stung a little, but it wasn't bad. The one right after that, not good at all- it was an even faster fuse and it went off right in my fingers. "OOOW SHIT!!!" I screamed hopping around holding my hand. Jack and everybody else were laughing and carrying on, because I'm sure it was pretty funny. I ran over to the lake and put my hand in the water to see if that would make it feel better, and it didn't. Not a bit.

I looked at my hand and saw what had happened....... apparently, my thumb took the full brunt of the firecracker because it was black (after being in the water) and part of my thumbnail was gone and it was black and purple. It was numb and burned like hell. Started bleeding so we bandaged it up and went on our way. Later that day I took the bandage off because it hurt so much; looked at it, and it was getting huge. Luckily it was our last day there, so I could go home and ice it.

Ended up losing feeling in my thumb and forefinger for pretty much the rest of the summer..... it stayed black and purple well into September and my thumbnail eventually fell out. My parents had a hard time letting me play with fireworks after that, the bastards :(
 
Coqui said:
Living in Kansas, my brother and I were playing tag football with a bunch of our friends.

My team was on offense. Seeing as it was 4th down and no one ever believed in punting, we decided to do a running play as it took 2 passes for a 1st down. I become the designated running back and start the end around. Things are working beautifully. Then hand off is perfect, I get around the defenders and start to go vertical to rush in for a touch down.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see my brother got a nice position running diagonally and I can see that he's going to catch me. I prepare to attempt to do a dodge move but his massive body (we were both a little overweight) makes it unable for me to do it.

Instead of tapping me with both hands (as we had done the entire game) he decides to tackle me by grabbing my waist and spinning me around. As my feet leave the ground, I look where I'm about to land.

He releases me and my body starts to roll right into..........a doberman.

The doberman wasn't too happy and decided I could use a pound or two less of flesh in my arm.


I still have the scar.

Two hand touch is for pussies.