My Mom once had a friend (Very scary, Goth chick) named Amy.
She had a daughter named K...Keirs..... I can't spell it!

Oh well, anyways, she was an evil little girl, despite the morals of Nightmare before Christmas.
I don't remember much, but she Bit me. Hard. on the foot.

I scar goes from my Big toe to my second littlest.:cry:

ooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww thats gotta hurt

I was climbing Mt. San Jacinto this last February. We climbed for 12 hours from 9pm Friday to 9am Saturday then lost the trail to snow. We continued climbing then around 11am I'd say we were climbing horizontal on a 65' vertical snow climb. We had nothing to grip on going sideways so we were kicking our feet in the snow to move. I got to the end and tried to pull myself up on a branch of a log. It broke and I fell 50 feet before hitting a tree. If I wouldn't have hit the tree I would have definately died as there was no more trees for a good hundred to hundred and fifty feet. I scared up my arms as they are what I caught the tree with. After that it took us another 5 hours to get to the tram which we took down the mountain. Was quite entertaining.

I have a scar that is about six inches long and 1/2 wide located on the inside of my bicep. I was working off the top rung of a 4 foot ladder, and tried to step off onto something else. I missed what I was going to step on, and fell to the ground. I caught the inside of the my arm on the corner of an electrical panel and ripped the top layer of skin off. Although it looked nasty then (and now), it didn't hurt or damage anything.

Not really a scar, per se, but there is evidence of it when I smile. I was on a merry-go-round along time ago... I was just a wee lad. And this guy was spinning it. I kept telling him to spin it faster and faster and faster, and he did...somehow... Now this thing was outta control, spinning at approximately mach 17 or something. Then, I feel my hands slipping. Slowly but surely, my grip is loosening. I use all my little strength to pull myself into the center and hold on with my arms wrapped around the bar, holding on for dear life. First, my legs slipped. Now, my feet are useless, because I am using all my energy to hold on with my hands, I don't care for my feet. You ever see those cartoons, where the character is holding on for dear life with just his fingers? That's how I felt. Finally, my hands gave, and I was flung from the merry-go-round, almost clear. Almost. The outter bar caught me right square in the head, broke my cheek bone. Knocked me into next week, too. I was out for a good 3-4 hours. When I smile, you can still see it, although vaguely now.



That's when I decided I didn't want to be a scientist. Physics hurt.

I was walking down an icy hill one winter night with a glass iced tea bottle in my hand. I slipped, reacted by trying to brace myself with the bottle-holding hand, and ended up with a shard of glass being driven into my palm. The resulting scar is relatively small, but it's my Jesus scar, so it's sweet.

I also got hit in the face with a toy truck when I was 3. Split my lip open. Not overly noticable 25 years later, but you can still see the scar if you're looking for it.