In kindergarden, I started running around the class with a pair of scissors in my hand. Tripped and the blades went right between my right eyeball and my skull.

Somehow nothing important was damaged (just a lot of bleeding and a very frightened teacher). I still have 2 functioning eyes, and I never again ran holding sharp objects.

One time, years ago, I threw my back out picking a coin up off the floor.

Soldering iron with needle tip, hot and full of tin. Power plug stuck in the extension cord connector.

Took the iron pointing towards me in the right hand together with the cord plug and pulled … Plug suddenly came free and the hot iron tip stuck in my left arm.

Pulled it out and it was clean, hole in the arm filled with tin residues. Didn’t hurt to much because nerves were dead around the hole.

Went straight to the hospital, took 3 weeks and a lot of cleaning to get the wound clean.

When I was a kid my brother was pushing me on a roundabout at the local park. He was pushing faster and faster, and centrifugal force did its thing. I could have held on tighter, but problem was I had an ice lolly in one hand and refused to let go of it, so could only hold onto the roundabout with one hand.

And that is how I ended up face down in the dirt, holding this lolly above my head because even in the crucial moment I prioritised it over protecting my face, and with a fake front tooth for the rest of my life.

Senior year of high school. I’d been losing weight for a couple of years and was now down to a point where athleticism of any kind was starting to be possible. I was late for gym class and didn’t feel like running a mile as punishment for tardiness, so I decided to take a shortcut by not going all the way down to the end of the road to get to the field.

I vividly recall thinking to myself, “I’ll just jump over that guardrail!”

My feet hooked the back of the guardrail, I flipped over it and landed hard. Broke my wrist.

My wife yawned and dislocated her jaw. She had to go to hospital to get it fixed. Oh, the drooling…

When I was a kid I was playing with a stapler and I wondered if I could stop the staple coming out with my thumb…… I couldn’t

Router bit in a drill press, trying to round over the edge on a small bit of wood. Of course the wood got snagged, and pulled my hand underneath the router bit. Somehow ended up with only a row of flesh wounds across my fingers. Could have easily broken some bones or sever some tenons.

Took my daughter to the skate park to practice her skateboarding. She was off the board, and I was going to try getting on. She asked if I wanted any tips. I said I didn’t need any.

In my mind, I was going to get on there and immediately start doing 900s. OK, not really, but I thought I’d ride it a few feet and turn it back over to her.

Instead, I stood on the board. It immediately came out from under me. I reflexively caught myself with my hand and fractured my wrist. 🤦‍♂️

This but using my head (almost broke my neck lol).

What I’m about to tell you is the absolute true, I swear on my mom.

I was 13 and had just started being kinky and stuff. I had some porn DVDs, inherited from my father, after him and my mother broke up and I went to live with her.

Anyway, I was just discovering my body, and was home alone when I had the brilliant idea to ride my sofa arm, completely naked. I started simulating as if I was fucking it from above. One, two, three pumps and then boom. Something hurt.

I looked at my dick and it was bleeding a lot. Blood spilling on the ground immediately and I fucking freaked out. I was certain I would have to amputate, or at the very least be very ashamed at the hospital explaining how the fuck that happened.

I turned it around to look when I calmed down a bit and I had ripped my frenulum. It was wide open, the frenulum itself hanging and the part it was removed completely red, bloody, I could see inside.

I tried to cry, but couldn’t, I just had to solve it, and could tell nobody about it, which would probably be worse, I thought. I put some toilet paper and it eventually stopped bleeding and wasn’t hurting that much anymore.

Took a shower, it burned as I did it, put my underwear and went on to leave to school. As I was leaving my house, my mom is arriving. I had to tell her, I was worried something bad could happen. Told her “I cut my dick”. She asked, freaked out “WHAT? HOW? WHAT HAPPENED? DOES IT HURT?”. I shook it off, said it was okay now, but I was scared, she asked me to see it, I showed her, she said wtf, let’s go to the hospital, I said no, it doesn’t hurt anymore. I’ll go to school. She asked “how did that happen?” And I could only come up with “I was playing horse rider on the sofa but did it too quickly”. I doubt she believed that shit, but I carried on.

She kept asking me for days how it was, and it just kept healing. In the end, it healed completely, and glued back to the skin. It has a scar, but it probably just looks like a normal, uninjured frenulum, and I don’t really think had any bad consequences outside of showing my dick to my mom as a teenager.

Wouldn’t say it was stupid in that it was the result of me doing anything stupid, but it definitely felt pretty stupid when I managed to get myself a 4 inch splinter from a wooden guardrail fully embedded in my leg in a hospital parking lot of all places. The best part was, because I was just a kid, and the hospital didn’t treat children, we had to drive to an entirely different hospital because of it.

I was showing off for a girl I was seeing, using my pullup bar. I live in a small cabin so it’s over the only doorframe that had clearance for the handles- the one between my kitchen and bathroom. I pull myself up and it strikes me as a good idea to put my feet up on the bar to attempt to hang by the legs.

Naturally, my feet go backwards over my head, feeling like I’m about to rip my rotator cuffs, I just drop. Straight onto a tile floor. Knock the wind out of myself and shockingly I don’t hit my head. Hurt my back, shoulders, and pride quite a bit.

Looking back, I always did stupid things as a kid.

This one time, when I was 12, I ran over a hornet’s nest with my bicycle. It was in the middle of the road, and I noticed it way too late. The thing cracked open, I realized what was happening, and went full speed downhill.

I decided to do something extra stupid, and stood on the handlebars in an attempt to jump off. The bike flipped, I fell, and my arm dragged all the way down the street before the bike fell on top of me.

In hindsight, there may have been no hornet’s nest.

🤣🤣🤣🤣

Shotgunning beers down at a friend’s house, with a big ol hunting knife, like 8" long, real rambo thing.

Started getting really drunk, as one does. So I was getting a bit cocky, as one does.

Did a few cans with just a quick stab and twist, showing off like.

Soooooo…I stabbed myself in the hand pretty bad. Should have got stitches, but, as previously stated, drunk and cocky.