Wednesday, 5 March 2008

Scars


I've been pretty lucky.
I've made it to 43 without acquiring too many scars: physical ones at least.
None on my body! How lucky is that!

They've all accumulated on my face.
I have a nicely concealed one tucked up in my eyelid at the corner of my eye. A memento from playing ball hockey at 8 years old. My father stitched me up: a pretty good piece of work from the old man. Yes, he was a doctor!

Another was from surgery to correct a split lip that never healed.
Pretty inconspicuous as well.

The third is my stupidity scar.
It's a tiny scar on the bridge of my nose.
My friend bet me that I couldn't jump as high as the potted plant hanging from a light standard in a parking lot.
I not only managed to jump as high as it, but knocked it off and it fell on my nose. We are talking about a big beer barrel type plant holder folks.
I'm lucky it didn't take my nose clean off!!

My friend has the best (or worst) stupidity scar.
Inebriated, he fell down a very steep slope when he was 18. He was luckily found by a woman the next morning; passed out sitting on a tree stump with a bone sticking out of his shoulder.
His stitchmarks resemble the laces on a football.
It looks like something ripped his arm off and then it was reattached!!

Now he tells people that he was bitten by a shark.
But I know the truth.

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