I win:
... and that's not even me.
As far as
my scars go:
- I've got a nice one on my left index finger. I almost cut my finger off with pruning sheers when I was a kid (I saw bone and thought it'd heal fine w/ just a bandaid - nope).
- There's about a 4" long one on my left shin from a tube of toothpaste. Remeber the oldschool tubes that were made of metal? I was in Cub Camp or something and it was sticking out of my backpack pocket. I picked up my backpack and it opened my shin up like a razor. I didn't even feel it.
- My right hand has some scars across it from putting my fist through a wall (the wall won in retrospect).
- My stomach looks like a ****ing jigsaw puzzle. I've been opened up more than a dozen times and there's a foot-long seam running up me (about an inch wide), with a few more nearby to compliment it. I don't even have a belly button anymore. That got lost along the way at some point.
- My junkie scars. I had a mainline threaded from my artery at the elbow right into my heart. That was in for a few months until it got infected (if you've seen
Requiem for a Dream ... ya, like that). The rest of my arms over the veins are covered in little i.v. scars, but they're starting to fade.
My dad's got some good ones ... multiple surgeries ... knife wounds, accidents. My mom's got a dent in her shin from a car accident - a bucket that was sitting between her legs crushed part of her shin bone.
... and my sister had her big toenails ripped out. No, seriously - they don't grow back.
- eyefloater