I just sneezed and...
Discussion
PopsandBangs said:
a couple of hours ago...
quick shower after work, short naked jog down the stairs to grab some fresh washing, bits flailing everywhere, and two approx. 12 year old female trick or treaters are standing at the window jaws on the floor.
I'm going to get absolutely nicked
yea they prob thought you were coming to answer the door like that! I'd be worried!quick shower after work, short naked jog down the stairs to grab some fresh washing, bits flailing everywhere, and two approx. 12 year old female trick or treaters are standing at the window jaws on the floor.
I'm going to get absolutely nicked
havoc said:
Reminds me of when I was making a model plane as a teenager...a particularly tough bit of sprue wouldn't come off through 'sawing' at it with a craft knife (i.e. stanley-knife type), so I started hacking at it. Unfortunately, my left index finger was a little way behind the sprue, and directly in the path of the knife...
a brilliant thread here and hopefully one that I can contribute to (albeit not as eloquently as previous posters)as the above poster I managed to harm myself whilst making models... dad had brought home some scalpels and I set about cutting the bases off my 1/72nd scale plastic soldiers and came across this kneeling b
d...
as you might imagine the left foot was easy enough to slice through, the right leg starting at the knee was a different proposition... being somewhat single minded at times (and without the sense God gave a peanut) I held the offending soldier in the crook of my index finger, grabbed the scalpel and began to push... now obviously the first part is quite solid and so (naturally) required a (lot) more sustained pressure. Obviously just past the knee not as much pressure is required... as I found out when the scalpel flew through the rest of the plastic and embedded itself in my finger. I swear to this day there was no pain but me being a curious sort (of idiot) noticed some weird looking white bits in the resolting wound and proceeded to pull said wound a little wider to see what they were. Some 35+ years later I still can't bend that finger
Managed to do pretty much the same while cutting an apple in half - held twixt thumb and (already knackered) forefinger. Got to the core applied a little more pressure and... well the funny thing is after you get past the core the rest of the apple is surprisingly easy to cut through. I was lucky there as I only ended up with a lot of blood and a light scar and nothing worse.
I think the tone of my 'luck' with knives must've been set a few years previously when my dad handed me a small paring type knife and jokingly asked me to cleave some brussel sprouts in the garden - being an enthusiastic type I toddled off into the garden and proceeded to decimate the legions of brussels. Leaving the biggest stalk til last I grabbed hold of it firmly and slashed - only to misjudge totally and slice my wrist. Obviously that could have ended very badly so I guess I was a little lucky!
Seeing as the OP talked about sneezing. I was lying down, being <ahem> 'orally pleasured' by a lady-friend when I could feel a sneeze coming on. Now the sensible (and polite!) thing in these situations is to desist for a while until the urge has passed - not really a good idea at that point and so I sneezed... HARD cue one exceedingly surprised Linda Lovelace impersonator and me not helping by laughing my tits off at her chocking distress
spikeyhead said:
on the subject of steering wheels, I had to remove the one on a mini I had many many years ago. Removing one is very simple, prize off the cover in the middle of the wheel, remove the large nut in the center of the wheel and pull it off the splined shaft.
In practice, it jsut doesn't come off, so you put both fists underneath the wheel and hit upwards. It still doesn't shift so you hit harder and harder.
When you hit it really really hard, throwing your body forwards to get some extra force your nose is about an inch from the wheel. Its at this point that the wheel decides that it's no longer stuck on its splined shaft and flies upwards at speed right into the nose that's now very close to the rapidly accelerating steering wheel. OUCH!!!
In practice, it jsut doesn't come off, so you put both fists underneath the wheel and hit upwards. It still doesn't shift so you hit harder and harder.
When you hit it really really hard, throwing your body forwards to get some extra force your nose is about an inch from the wheel. Its at this point that the wheel decides that it's no longer stuck on its splined shaft and flies upwards at speed right into the nose that's now very close to the rapidly accelerating steering wheel. OUCH!!!
tribbles said:
You resurrected a near 8 year old thread with that? 
It was worth it as I've just gone back to read most of it again! Haven't laughed this much for ages, had to do it in stages as I've had to stop and wipe the tears away so I could see enough to read!Remembered one from when I was a kid with a morning paper round. One avenue was so steep I used to walk up it wheeling my bike and delivering the papers on the way. Got to the last house at the top and the guy was out in his garden, saw me and came to take his paper from me. I turned my bike around to face down the hill while we where chatting and cocked my leg over it to ride down the hill and my jeans caught on the little clip things that held a bike pump onto the frame. My foot stopped it's downward motion to the floor and, now totally off balance, I slowly toppled over, crashing to the ground with the remaining papers and my bag bouncing up and onto my head, leaving me thrashing around blindly trying to untangle myself. I could hear muffled laughter as the guy pissed himself laughing and I finally escaped to find the guy on one knee, crying with laughter, totally unable to help me. I saw him a couple more times during that summer but only him walking back down his garden path towards the house, shoulders shaking with laughter as he presumably remembered! Git!
Some time agoI was up a stepladder trying to remove a wooden batten attached to the wall with what appeared to be the kind of nails that have round, flat heads. I'd tried a screwdriver - at some cost to the plaster - and my claw hammer hadn't fared much better. So, it was big guns time...crowbar to the rescue. Err, no. I got the curved end of the crowbar (with claw) in place and applied leverage lustily. I found out then that the nails that are ribbed are like low-profile radials - they hang on forever and let go suddenly without warning. The batten came loose and headed for my conk at the speed of sound. Next thing I know, I'm in the shape of a pretzel, entangled in the legs of the stepladder and spurting claret at a rate. I got my act together, made with the tissues and finished the job. But to this day, my beak carries a vertical scar right down the middle.
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