This is the second time this week I've stabbed myself in the thumb...

There are cabinets above the kitchen counter in my house. Without fail, I smack my head on them every time I knead dough.

You know the weird thing about having Chronic Fatigue Syndrome? You become so careful about how you move (because of the pain) that you become much less clumsy.

I used to hurt myself all the time but not anymore.

I tagged myself through the thumb with one of these babies


It's like stapling yourself, only much much worse. It's like nailing yourself in fact. Especially because if you get blood on clothes you are supposed to be cleaning...

Remember those free posters that came with rock 'n' roll magazines back in the 1970s? They were stapled into the middle of the magazine, and would easily tear out so teenagers like me could hang 'em on the wall. One day I bought a new issue of Creem or Circus (can't remember which one) at the local 7-11, walked it home, and carefully separated the poster from the center staples. Not sure which band was on the poster, but my musical tastes back then leaned toward Led Zeppelin, ZZ Top, and almost any other group that had a mind-blowing lead guitarist. So I grabbed a pair of thumbtacks, found an empty space on my bedroom wall, and prepared the poster for display.

Long story short: One of the thumbtacks ended up in my right thumb. The entire sharp end of the tack went straight into the soft part of the thumb, leaving the head of the tack flat against the skin. It looked like I had a pierced thumb, with a shiny silver stud attached as an ornament.

Oh, I have a 3.5 inch by half inch scar from a really dumb move decades ago!

I was a young teenager and was redecorating my room. Something metal was leaning up against my bed (on purpose) and I completely saw it. I jumped up on my bed to hang a new lampshade and forgot about the metal piece within 90 seconds or so. Not a good idea!

I hopped back off the bed backwards right on top of it and got a really nasty, gaping cut up my thigh. The bruising was pretty horrible, too. I can't believe I forgot about something I had just looked at

More than once I've poured coffee over my cereal, thinking it was the milk.

Oh, and that thing you see in the old-school cartoons where someone steps on the end of a rake, and the handle smacks them between the eyes.

Yeah, I've done that too.

I chipped a front tooth when I was a teen opening a bottle of soda. No. I didn't use my teeth to bite off the cap, that would be stupid. No. I used a bottle opener and the bottle started fizzing and over flowing, so I shoved the open end into my mouth to catch all that escaping fluid. *crack!*

Surprisingly, not that bad.

I was cuckoo for Cafe au Cocoa Puffs.

Goddammit, I was stitching a patch on a coat and using a plastic water bottle cap as a thimble (judge me), when the needle head pierced right through the cap and into my thumb!! That's the blunt end mind you!!!!! >_<

I once cut myself on a knife.

On the blunt side of the knife.

Also, my grandparent's farmhouse had a small bathroom off the porch. The door was exactly six feet high. My siblings and I spent many a summer at the farm, so this was all familiar territory.

So much so that when I grew to six feet and my brother grew to 6'3", we both tended to walk into that bathroom at full speed, not thinking twice about it.

I got off easy; just a breezy feeling along the top of my head and a sense of narrowly-averted disaster. My brother, however, wound up with quite a few embarrassing bruises until we finally posted a nice bright cartoon of a duck (geddit?) on that door's lintel and he eventually re-trained himself.