I was 8 and having a rock fight with a bunch of other kids. I got hit in the forehead and man did that thing bleed. A few stiches later and I was fine.
I still have the scar.

Riding one of those one man cable cars across a river, lucky I didn't lose my fingers.

Grizz

I fell off a cliff when I was 11, cut my finger that was bleeding like a stuck pig and my dad wrapped some moss around it. Still have the scar.

The dumb part was how I wound up on a cliff face.

I've got scars all over my body from being a normal boy who played outside and left the boob tube (tv) inside. We'd play from early morning until late at night all summer long. Many of us got cut, poked, scraped, or burned. After school, we'd play sports, or later on, go hunting. Those added a few scars of their own. On weekends, it was some or all of the above. And then there was Scouting-that provided a few additional scars. My grandson was looking at my hands the other day and asked me about a few scars. Some had stories. Others I couldn't even remember. And, that doesn't count the legitimate surgical scars. . . . . .

Compound fracture of the right tibia in 1981 riding my dad's Suzuki 750 like the crazy 10 foot tall bullet proof 19 year old kid I though I was. Tried to pass a guy pulling a BBQ trailer when he turned left without a blinker. Hit him doing about 50mph by the time I got it slowed.

Still got the scar on my shin as well as calcium knot about the size and shape of half a golf ball.

Also hit my face on the bike's windshield, giving me a small cut on the chin, ala Indiana Jones style. That little cut bled like it hit an artery and I was covered in blood. The driver's wife got out of the truck, saw me laying next to the bike with a bone sticking out of the leg of my jeans, and blood all over my shirt. She starts shrieking "He's gonna die, he's gonna die". Not knowing how bad I was hurt, I took her word for it and was convinced I WAS GONNA DIE!!!.

Got to the hospital and they put one little stitch in the face cut. Bitch freaked me out for no reason! LOL

I've still got that scar as well.

Did your Dad give you more scars for wrecking his bike ?

I've got more scars than I can count from childhood being a boy to my 40+ years in the sheet metal industry. But the one I didn't get thank God was 3 years ago when I was in the shop + had a short piece of sheet metal in my hands ready to drop on the floor when I turned + a red wasp was right in my face. I instinctively brought my hands up to my face, forgetting the metal in my hands. I smacked myself in the face with the sharp edge so hard I immediately got a headache + I was sure I had laid my head open, + as we all know, head wounds bleed like a bitch. What saved me was my glasses. The sheet hit my glasses lens + nosepiece + didn't cut the skin. It did hit so hard that it made a groove in my lense. That could have been really bad.

quote:

Originally posted by muzza:
Did your Dad give you more scars for wrecking his bike ?

Believe it or not, it did zero damage to the bike. My leg took all the impact between the bike and the truck bumper and the bike front end hit the truck rear tire and bounced out!!! No metal to metal contact anywhere. It was one of those instances where time SLOWS DOWN through out the entire event and all I could think of was Evil Knievel always said the longer you can hang on to the bike in a crash the better your chances are. So I held on to the bike and after it crashed and bounced, I was still on it, upright, and steered it a couple of feet into the ditch before it fell over. Was pretty damn lucky. Spent the next 6 months in a cast from foot to crotch. It sucked big time.

Got lots of scars, mainly because of being too stupid to think first.

But, this one comes to mind.

I had a boat, it was one no one wanted to but, and the dealer had it for a while.

Originally made for racing in some class in the North Sea, and was built by two brothers as a side business, they were farmers.

Anyway, I liked the boat and bought it.

It had a very deep V hull, 18 feet long, very narrow, and used to be raced with a 140 HP engine.

It had seating for 4, the front half of it, covered.

We used it for a while for water skiing, then decided we needed a bigger engine!

The dealer said "are you kidding?" when I said I wanted to put a 225 Mercury on it!

We did anyway, and it turned into a very fast, though unstable, boat.

80 MP/H was not too difficult to get, if you are brave enough.

Only two of us could do that, the rest were too scared to drive very fast in it.

Anyway, on this particular day, there was a boat race later in the morning.

I was out, and wanted to get back to get some drinks.

Driving to the jetty - which is floating blocks of concrete, covered in horrible barnacles.

I came in too fast, then hit reveres.

The boat was going backwards, and I took the rope and tried to jump on the jetty.

I slipped.

My feet went forward, and I ended up underneath the concrete blocks.

Both my shins, up to my knees, lost all the skin and a bit of flesh!

The pain was terrible, and I thought I had broken my leg.

Luckily it was only a flesh wound!

quote:

My grandson was looking at my hands the other day and asked me about a few scars. Some had stories. Others I couldn't even remember

And others I want to forget because of the stupidity but can't because I have a scar.

Have four fingers that only work about 90 percent because I should have known better.

My life history is written on the scar tissue on my ass.

Dave

quote:

Originally posted by muzza:
Did your Dad give you more scars for wrecking his bike ?

Thats Funny

quote:

Originally posted by nopride2:
My life history is written on the scar tissue on my ass.

Dave

Theres a story that needs to be told...

Not sure if this was dumb but I sure didn't expect a permanent scar across my forearm delivered by a tom turkey when I was checking a hen's nest. Yes, domestic turkey! His claws were sharp.

In about 1980, I was playing in a golf tournament. My ball was about ten feet behind a 4" diameter mesquite tree. No way I would hit it. I then stuck the finest 4-iron in the history of the world. The ball slapped that mesquite tree and came back faster than it left. Right as my head rotated up, it hit me in the forehead over my left eye, and knocked me out. I don't remember hitting the ground. My playing partner said it was instantaneous.

Got shot in my forehead with a air rifle at 13. Thick stuck prevented any brain damage or any effect (other than my natural stubbornness )

Got an mri twenty seven later - just shows some kind of injury. Never had a headache or anything.

Scar is not very visible. Most men will not notice it. Few women have - they look more closely.

I have a piece of my skull as a souvenir.

Mike

quote:

Right as my head rotated up, it hit me in the forehead over my left eye, and knocked me out. I don't remember hitting the ground. My playing partner said it was instantaneous.

Musta been when you became a liberal?

Seriously, that could have killed you. You are very lucky.

quote:

Originally posted by Beretta682E:
Got shot in my forehead with a air rifle at 13. Thick stuck prevented any brain damage or any effect (other than my natural stubbornness )

Got an mri twenty seven later - just shows some kind of injury. Never had a headache or anything.

Scar is not very visible. Most men will not notice it. Few women have - they look more closely.

I have a piece of my skull as a souvenir.

Mike

Now we know why like Blasers!

And fishing!

Many scar stories start with " hold my beer and watch this".

When my daughter little, she would look at my scars when we are on the beach and ask how I got them.

I told her “very easy sweetheart. Being stupid will get you lots of scars!”

quote:

Originally posted by Kensco:
In about 1980, I was playing in a golf tournament. My ball was about ten feet behind a 4" diameter mesquite tree. No way I would hit it. I then stuck the finest 4-iron in the history of the world. The ball slapped that mesquite tree and came back faster than it left. Right as my head rotated up, it hit me in the forehead over my left eye, and knocked me out. I don't remember hitting the ground. My playing partner said it was instantaneous.

Did it leave a scar?

Debauchery I’m smart enough not to write down.

,and a bruise, and a knot. Three inches lower and it would have taken-out an eye.

quote:

Originally posted by Saeed:

quote:

Originally posted by Beretta682E:
Got shot in my forehead with a air rifle at 13. Thick stuck prevented any brain damage or any effect (other than my natural stubbornness )

Got an mri twenty seven later - just shows some kind of injury. Never had a headache or anything.

Scar is not very visible. Most men will not notice it. Few women have - they look more closely.

I have a piece of my skull as a souvenir.

Mike

Now we know why like Blasers!

And fishing!

I got hit in the forehead with a bird shot pellet as a teen. Never thought much of it, there was just a purple spot at the site, till it started to fester, years later, and a pellet popped out.

Grizz

High brass 20 ga shell, cut off at the brass. 22LR Brass and powder inserted from opposite side (shotgun primer and 22 rim face away from one another)
Squeezed them in vise.
Hit .22 primer with blade of screwdriver.
Bang!!!
.22 case unwrapped and stuck into the bone of my left thumb!
Yelled like hell, pulled the brass out with pliers, wrapped a rag around it, bandaged it up and went on with life.
Never told parents....

You all wouldn't believe it if I told some of them so i will just read y'alls. Bull riding, knife cuts, gun shot, bite mark scars etc etc etc.

I'm not sure about "dumbest", but when I was five, living in Santa Fe, the neighbor across the street built a soapbox derby for his son, a friend of my older brother. The brake was a stick that you pulled and because it was bolted in the center, the other end would drag on the pavement and slow you down. When it came for my turn to ride, I straddled the "hump" behind the driver, since it was a one-seater, and we took off down the incline. About halfway down the hill a car backed out of a driveway into our path. The driver swerved up into a driveway and across a front lawn rendered the brake useless. What stopped us was a cinder-block wall. I was gripping the "hump" as hard as I could with my thighs. I was wearing short pants. What we hadn't noticed, and wasn't important until we took off across the yard with no brake, was that one of the nail heads had backed-out a little where I was gripping, and when we hit the wall, it tore into my leg. Bleeding like a stuck pig, I ran all the way home. Stitches were required.

The shit we did when we were kids...

quote:

The shit we did when we were kids...

And somehow we survived.

Dave

The State schools allow the public to use their swimming pools on sundays. I would take my daughter sometimes in the winter.
I have bullet and shrapnel scars on my upper body. I had a big bull pin me and re-work my face. The plastic surgeon got me pieced back fairly well, except for a scar that pulls my eye and face towards my ear. Combine that and I'm built like an Olympic wrestler and people tended to migrate to the other end of the pool from us.
My daughter was laughing one time when she overheard some of them talking, they thought I was a mob enforcer.

Ok, I need to admit to something here. Dumbest scar obtained as an adult.

It was the 4th of July. My kids wanted a bunch of fireworks we could set off. Hell, I wanted a butch of fireworks we could set off. So I bought a grocery bag full of rockets, firecrackers, and novelty items. I told my kids we had to be extra careful.

As most of us did, we drove outside of Odessa. I dropped the tail on my Dodge Ramcharger, and raised the top gate. I got the wife and kids back a safe distance as it got dark, and started lighting a few things.

The bottle rockets weren't taking off right so I decided that if I set them in the tailgate latch, they would launch themselves into the air. It actually worked as designed a few times. Then it didn't.

This time the stick on the rocket just laid over as it lit, but it was trapped in the latch and couldn't take off. The sparks were showering into the back of the Ramcharger where the bag of fireworks sat. The bag ignited about the same time I lunged forward to free the rocket, or grab the bag.....I'm not sure what my plan was.

I know what I did though. I set my polyester coveralls on fire and they started melting to my leg. My wife was screaming, my kids started crying, I was yelling and cursing. The fireworks in the bag never caught fire. They just fell out of the burning bag as I grabbed it.

I had saved the Ramcharger, but not my thigh. By the time I peeled off the melted coveralls. My right thigh had a 2" by 4" spot of melted polyester, blood and skin. So I now have a soapbox derby scar on the left thigh, and a fireworks scar on the right thigh.

Yeah, definitely the dumbest, I got no more stories to tell.

And the winner is

I cant believe someone would admit to something like that.
You actually wore polyester coveralls? Explains a lot.

yes - those overalls and disc grinding sparks make for some unusual dance moves as you try and put the flames out ....

It was the 80s. What can I say?

I did get an unusual scar, I guess.....back in the 70s. I say, "I guess", because I couldn't see it.

We had a rockbit experience a bearing failure while drilling an oil well. To get at the bearing to examine the race and bearings, you had to use a torch to wash off the weld on the back of the bit "leg" then drop all the ball bearings out of the exposed channel, and remove the "cone".

We had taken it to a welding shop and the welder was washing off the weld and chipping away the slag with a hammer. We were standing about 8' away and as he hit the steel "leg", a piece of slag broke off and flew directly up the left side of my nose. The sensation was that it had entered my brain. The heat and pain were intense, and there was no way of removing the burning metal fast enough. Turned out it was a piece of slag about half the size of my little fingernail, hit me dead flush in the nostril, and lodged about halfway up. The piece of slag was big enough that it blocked the airway and I was able to block the other side with my finger and blow it back out, thank God.

The day ended with a trip to the hospital emergency room and a thorough clean out.

Thought I'd like to try a bow quiver on a 70 lb. compound bow. After I installed it, I brought the bow to full draw using only fingers to see if it affected the balance of the bow. It did. My fingers slipped and the string raked my forearm.
Removed the bow quiver and never used one, but still have a sizable scar on my left forearm.

The following is from a Florida newspaper:

"A man was working on his motorcycle on his patio and his wife was in the house in the kitchen. The man was racing the engine on the motorcycle and somehow, the motorcycle slipped into gear. The man, still holding the handlebars, was dragged through a glass patio door along with the motorcycle and dumped onto the floor inside the house. The wife, hearing the crash, ran into the dining room, and found her husband laying on the floor, cut and bleeding, the motorcycle laying next to him and the patio door shattered.

The wife ran to the phone and summoned an ambulance. Because they lived on a fairly large hill, the wife went down the several flights of long steps to the street to direct the paramedics to her husband. After the ambulance arrived and transported the husband to the hospital, the wife uprights the motorcycle and pushed it outside. Seeing that gas had spilled on the floor, the wife obtained some paper towels, blotted up the gasoline, and threw the towels in the toilet.

The husband was treated at the hospital and was released to come home. After arriving home, he looked at the shattered patio door and the damage done to his motorcycle. He became despondent, went into the bathroom, sat on the toilet and smoked a cigarette. After finishing the cigarette, he flipped it between his legs into the toilet bowl while still seated. The wife, who was in the kitchen, heard a loud explosion and her husband screaming. She ran into the bathroom and found her husband lying on the floor. His trousers had been blown away and he was suffering burns of the buttocks, the back of his legs and his groin.

The wife again ran to the phone and called for an ambulance. The same ambulance crew was dispatched and the wife met them at the street. The paramedics loaded the husband on the stretcher and began carrying him to the street. While they were going down the stairs to the street accompanied by the wife, one of the paramedics asked the wife how the husband had burned himself. She told them and the paramedics started laughing so hard, one of them tripped. The stretcher dumped the husband out. He fell down the remaining steps and broke his arm."


.

Come to think of it, I've got a lot of senseless scars.

I was living in Hobbs, New Mexico in 1974, playing fast-pitch softball. It was late in the game and we were leading 12 to 1. I got a double and was standing on second when the next batter hit one through the right side of the infield. I took off and the coach waved me on when the rightfielder bobbled the ball. I slid into home face first and the catcher collapsed on me with the ball and planted my chin onto home plate. I was called safe, but I'm not sure why that 13th run was important. I got a trip to the emergency room and stitches for my "heroic" effort, and a scar on my chin.