this post was submitted on 10 Aug 2024
356 points (98.1% liked)
Greentext
4409 readers
1353 users here now
This is a place to share greentexts and witness the confounding life of Anon. If you're new to the Greentext community, think of it as a sort of zoo with Anon as the main attraction.
Be warned:
- Anon is often crazy.
- Anon is often depressed.
- Anon frequently shares thoughts that are immature, offensive, or incomprehensible.
If you find yourself getting angry (or god forbid, agreeing) with something Anon has said, you might be doing it wrong.
founded 1 year ago
MODERATORS
you are viewing a single comment's thread
view the rest of the comments
view the rest of the comments
Someone should put together a book about nearly-fatal stupid kid stories.
The summer I was 9, my younger sister and I were home alone, and I was playing on our open front door, hanging from it and swinging. It had a window with curtains hanging from a rod. The rod was attached to the door by these metal hooks on either side. When I dropped off, I knocked the curtain rod off and ripped the inside of my wrist open vertically about 2 inches. As I held my gushing wrist, my sister and I walked around the neighborhood trying to find an adult; eventually, we did, and I got a visit to the emergency room, some stitches, and a wicked scar. The doctor said if it'd caught me a half inch to the right, I would have torn out along an artery and I'd have bled out before we got help.
I have a similar story, I was planning on making homemade paper with my sister by blending up newspapers in our blender. Except, I was too stupid to figure out how to open the blender lid, which was held on with a suction, which is opened with a button. I eventually got it open by forcing the lid open by holding it upside down and forcing down with my left hand. The blade fell out and sliced my wrist open horizontally, at first I didn't realize until I looked down and saw blood gushing onto the floor. I told my sister to help and get our grandma who lived on the property but in a different building. Eventually we got to the ER and they gave me a bandage, but refused to give me stitches without my mom being there (I don't know why they did that it was stupid). Eventually my mom left work, she's a nurse, and gave me liquid stitches. She said she didn't do normal stitches is because I just barely missed an artery and it was exposed to the air, and she didn't want to risk poking it with a needle. I do wish I had normal stitches done though because the wound kept opening when I went to school, causing the scar to get pretty big.
Sweet story! Speaking of scars, though, they can be pretty cool. I had my appendix out when I was young, and in an era when the cosmetic side wasn't as advanced. As a result, as a young man I had a disproportionately large, ugly-looking scar on my abdomen, and I took to telling girls who asked about it that I'd gotten it from a knife fight. Which was kinda technically true.
I won't say it got me laid, because by the time women were in a situation to ask about the scar, that train was usually already in motion, but it was a good story.