Idiotic ways we injure ourselves
- Thread starter Kotchanski
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After 300 stitches I stopped counting. The injurys were everything from a cousin hitting me on the head with a chair, a diving accident, a fall over a stoney hillside going after a fly ball, a knife slip while coring cabbage, to the getting up close and personal with a plate glass window.
ruggero
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Well I've curently got a broken little toe, stubbed walking to open the curtains.
I once woke in a hurry, (always late for work on the other side of the city.) Leapt out of bed to turn off the alarm that I had deliberately placed on the far side of the room. Fell in a heap as my foot (which was asleep) folded under me. Worst part was having sprained it I had to dress and make it a block and cross two roads to get to a public phone to say I couldn't come in.
When I was three I got in a huff because my brother and a friend were jumping up and down on MY bed. So in blind anger I got under it, lay on my back and put my feet up to stop them. They kept jumping. Broke my leg, spent months in plaster (applied on the kitchen table by the Doctor next door, inches from MY bedroom. Well we shared it you see, but!) months in plaster locked on the front verandah, stomping along holding the wooden railing in both hands and hating the world through the bars.
At eight I was in a home made wooden "billy cart" in the park and decided to scare an embracing couple lying on the grass, came hurtling down the hill at them and lost control avoiding them. Rolled the cart about six feet from them and ripped my thigh open on a bent rusty nail (part of the cart) staggered home holding the gash shut, to the Doctor, he sewed it up whilst pushing muscle in as he went. I was fascinated, all this mince meat just getting poked in with his thumb whilst he sewed. Loose as it was I learnt that that's what's in there and it grows back as it is meant to, too!
Back to the late at work routine, I was very young, soooo-o many ultimatums. I had a very dark Deco flat, with heavy red brown velvet drapes furnished from opp shops and auctions in Deco and vintage. The alarm woke me still pissed and hungover I dressed in the semi darkness (probably in the same clothes for retail mind you) and rushed to the train to try and get to work in time to save my job.
Was called over by the boss when I'd already served a few customers, to be told I had odd shoes on. Right, oh, not that odd, one black lace up and one brown slip on.
"You can learn a leson and wait till lunctime before you can go and buy a new pair!) He was fun and would have been laughing behind my back. Worst part was serving customers convincingly moving around the showroom, whilst hdiing one foot.
In the same job one of my close female workmates came into the showroom bending down to check something, I was nearby and saw her there, stepped silently over to her and "goosed" her with my two index fingers on either side of her tummy. She squealed (possibly farted) and leapt up to face me.
She wasn't her, she was a customer, oops!
I'm sorry if these weren't injurious or gory enough but they were definitely careless!
And fun in retrospect.
OOOH, please excuse me but there's one more.
My first job after college was managing an Aquarium.
On Sundays there were two of us there of equal rank, so we took turns being in charge.
This Sunday it was my turn "to take the flack" and be "The Boss" and we were there both wearing our vermilion buttoned at the shoulder Barbers style uniform jackets with the company logo embroidered on the top pocket, looking terribly professional standing behind the counter.
This week it was my turn, and I was serving a rather cranky old regular, same overcoat with black rings around his eyes like something out of a British B/W war movie. He even carried a leather "crocodile skin print" kit bag.
He had over the years bought many rare and expensive fish from us and was very proud of his collection. I served him with some plants or something else quite bland, when we'd finished he suddenly turned and said "I've got a bone to pick!"
"Bones to pick" I cheerioed, doing a mock tap dance and extending my right hand palm up at my mate, "Neil-l-l's your man!"
The cranky old customer swung back the kit bag, clicking it open, and swung it back towards everhelpful Neil. A gelatinous mass of boiled and congealed exotic and expensive fish flew towards Neil's chest where with a "plopp" they stuck, broke up and started to slowly and stickily slide down his immaculate uniform, Neils face changed.
I gasped and stepped in to try and placate the customer (and Neil who was wearing "my fish") he'd been cleaning his 5 foot fishtank somehow he had boiled all his fish and it was our fault. Joy!
Careless ness, we used to check all the electrical items before they left the store by crouching down with our back to the customer and using the powerpoint in the wall behind the counter. Sounds simple. But we had a bad batch arrive of light fittings for the top of aquariums. You'd get one for them, unwrap from its cardboard box crouch down with it on your knees, tube up, plug it in turn it on and check nothing was wrong.
click, the light goes on it's ok.
Well once a bad batch came through click and it would explode on your knee. Not the glass tube, but "pop" a flash and a puff of smoke. When the second one went you were entering Monty Python and credibility was fragile. You were sweating and terrified to try another. Would the next one get you?
Heaters would "pop" amd blacken the inside of the large glass test tube you were holding. Would one shatter in your hand?
But he best was a "vibrator" pump they brought back to get checked, you'd remove the rubber base and holding it in your left hand crouch there working the power switch with your right. It's busy there are other people waitng to be served watching you intently. You flick the switch it starts vibrating, then someone calls a question to you, you're distracted just enough to turn a little and your finger or thumb makes contact with a live wire. Now you're vibrating and answering the question in front of an audience, how much can you maintain your pitch, multi tasking you'vre really only wanting to turn the power off without losing face. The uniform must be protected at all times.
I'll stop, sorry. It was so-o-o like Mony Python's Dead Parrot Sketch!
I once woke in a hurry, (always late for work on the other side of the city.) Leapt out of bed to turn off the alarm that I had deliberately placed on the far side of the room. Fell in a heap as my foot (which was asleep) folded under me. Worst part was having sprained it I had to dress and make it a block and cross two roads to get to a public phone to say I couldn't come in.
When I was three I got in a huff because my brother and a friend were jumping up and down on MY bed. So in blind anger I got under it, lay on my back and put my feet up to stop them. They kept jumping. Broke my leg, spent months in plaster (applied on the kitchen table by the Doctor next door, inches from MY bedroom. Well we shared it you see, but!) months in plaster locked on the front verandah, stomping along holding the wooden railing in both hands and hating the world through the bars.
At eight I was in a home made wooden "billy cart" in the park and decided to scare an embracing couple lying on the grass, came hurtling down the hill at them and lost control avoiding them. Rolled the cart about six feet from them and ripped my thigh open on a bent rusty nail (part of the cart) staggered home holding the gash shut, to the Doctor, he sewed it up whilst pushing muscle in as he went. I was fascinated, all this mince meat just getting poked in with his thumb whilst he sewed. Loose as it was I learnt that that's what's in there and it grows back as it is meant to, too!
Back to the late at work routine, I was very young, soooo-o many ultimatums. I had a very dark Deco flat, with heavy red brown velvet drapes furnished from opp shops and auctions in Deco and vintage. The alarm woke me still pissed and hungover I dressed in the semi darkness (probably in the same clothes for retail mind you) and rushed to the train to try and get to work in time to save my job.
Was called over by the boss when I'd already served a few customers, to be told I had odd shoes on. Right, oh, not that odd, one black lace up and one brown slip on.
"You can learn a leson and wait till lunctime before you can go and buy a new pair!) He was fun and would have been laughing behind my back. Worst part was serving customers convincingly moving around the showroom, whilst hdiing one foot.
In the same job one of my close female workmates came into the showroom bending down to check something, I was nearby and saw her there, stepped silently over to her and "goosed" her with my two index fingers on either side of her tummy. She squealed (possibly farted) and leapt up to face me.
She wasn't her, she was a customer, oops!
I'm sorry if these weren't injurious or gory enough but they were definitely careless!
And fun in retrospect.
OOOH, please excuse me but there's one more.
My first job after college was managing an Aquarium.
On Sundays there were two of us there of equal rank, so we took turns being in charge.
This Sunday it was my turn "to take the flack" and be "The Boss" and we were there both wearing our vermilion buttoned at the shoulder Barbers style uniform jackets with the company logo embroidered on the top pocket, looking terribly professional standing behind the counter.
This week it was my turn, and I was serving a rather cranky old regular, same overcoat with black rings around his eyes like something out of a British B/W war movie. He even carried a leather "crocodile skin print" kit bag.
He had over the years bought many rare and expensive fish from us and was very proud of his collection. I served him with some plants or something else quite bland, when we'd finished he suddenly turned and said "I've got a bone to pick!"
"Bones to pick" I cheerioed, doing a mock tap dance and extending my right hand palm up at my mate, "Neil-l-l's your man!"
The cranky old customer swung back the kit bag, clicking it open, and swung it back towards everhelpful Neil. A gelatinous mass of boiled and congealed exotic and expensive fish flew towards Neil's chest where with a "plopp" they stuck, broke up and started to slowly and stickily slide down his immaculate uniform, Neils face changed.
I gasped and stepped in to try and placate the customer (and Neil who was wearing "my fish") he'd been cleaning his 5 foot fishtank somehow he had boiled all his fish and it was our fault. Joy!
Careless ness, we used to check all the electrical items before they left the store by crouching down with our back to the customer and using the powerpoint in the wall behind the counter. Sounds simple. But we had a bad batch arrive of light fittings for the top of aquariums. You'd get one for them, unwrap from its cardboard box crouch down with it on your knees, tube up, plug it in turn it on and check nothing was wrong.
click, the light goes on it's ok.
Well once a bad batch came through click and it would explode on your knee. Not the glass tube, but "pop" a flash and a puff of smoke. When the second one went you were entering Monty Python and credibility was fragile. You were sweating and terrified to try another. Would the next one get you?
Heaters would "pop" amd blacken the inside of the large glass test tube you were holding. Would one shatter in your hand?
But he best was a "vibrator" pump they brought back to get checked, you'd remove the rubber base and holding it in your left hand crouch there working the power switch with your right. It's busy there are other people waitng to be served watching you intently. You flick the switch it starts vibrating, then someone calls a question to you, you're distracted just enough to turn a little and your finger or thumb makes contact with a live wire. Now you're vibrating and answering the question in front of an audience, how much can you maintain your pitch, multi tasking you'vre really only wanting to turn the power off without losing face. The uniform must be protected at all times.
I'll stop, sorry. It was so-o-o like Mony Python's Dead Parrot Sketch!
BadBoyCanada
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Watching "1000 Ways to Die" last night.
A young woman got something from her BF in the mail. She thought it was a vibrator, when in fact it was a stun gun.
Takes "Pain Whore" to a hole new level!
A young woman got something from her BF in the mail. She thought it was a vibrator, when in fact it was a stun gun.
Takes "Pain Whore" to a hole new level!
