When I was 6 or 7, I jumped off a porch and landed in a crouching position next to an open car door (an old Honda), and something on the bottom of the door was apparently protruding and sharp.. it cut my right ear nearly off, enough to the point that the top half of my ear was hanging downward by a piece of skin. It bled, a lot. For some reason (I think because I was so young maybe? I don't remember), the doctors couldn't give me any local anasthetic (sp?) when he stitched me up with 25 or so stitches. I remember it hurt a lot but I don't really remember the specific pain. I still have a scar (obviously) and a great story that chicks dig.
Similarly, not much more than a year later, my brother and I were racing through the house to go outside and jump on our trampoline. Our raceway took us through the garage, and running in my family's garage is never a good idea. I ran by a 10-gallon paint can, the kind with the tabs that are hammered down to seal it. Well, this one was open, and some tabs were pryed up and even broken in the middle, creating yet another sharp protrusion. My leg caught it. On the right side of my right leg, just under the knee (pretty meat-y, like part of the calf almost) to just past the top of my shin I had a huuuge cut, basically a canyon in my leg. It cut down to the first layer of tissue, which I remember being as white as snow. Being the youngster I was, and having seen cartoons with white skeletons, I thought I was looking at my fibula/tibia! I could see shelves of weird fleshly organ like devices lining the inside of my leg before the canyon filled with a river of blood. I tried to hold my leg together the best I could while my dad after hearing me scream ran in, picked me up, set me in the car, and we rushed to the ER. Another 30 or so stitches, with anasthetic this time fortunately; another great story to go with another great scar.
