Even without genitals I can still game, without my eyes I would go insane.
(hey, that sorta rhymes!)
Ouch 
When I was 4, I was climbing on the kitchen counter trying to get a bag of chips and I fell off. I tried to catch myself on something, only to grab onto the steak knife holder, I proceeded to fall with the knifes and one of them cut my belly open. Somehow it didn’t scar.
EDIT: Oh, there was also the time I stuck my finger in a power outlet. But that wasn’t so much an accident, as it was me being an idiot.
I read that as “I proceeded to fall with the knifes and one of them cut my balls open. Somehow it didn’t scar.” the first time, and I was like :fffuuu:
^BME pain olympics amirite?
on two occasions, the same driver has very nearly run me over while I brought shopping carts in from the parking lot.
This happened a long time ago, back when I was stupid…well, stupider.
I was working the deli department at the local grocery store. At the end of the day, I was tasked to clean the deli slicer.
Yeah, I think you see where I’m going with this. Anyway, they had these chainmail gloves that were to protect the fingers, but I didn’t like to use them because the water and the meat and cheese remnants got into the links of the chainmail and made it feel like a muddied clumps. So, I had the bright idea to clean the slicer without wearing the gloves.
Uh huh.
I still have a scar on the pointer and middle finger on my right hand.
when I was about 10 or so, the son of the bastard my mom was dating tossed me shoulder-first onto the ground.
most of the second semester of my fifth grade year I spent with a shoulder brace.
Other than the typical scar-inducing fall, I’ve broken my elbow, lit my hair on fire, electrocuted myself 4 times and accidentally slammed my ankle into a steel fence. Oh, and when I was coming back from a field trip back in elementary school I accidentally got my thumb stuck in the door jamb of a Volvo, which ended up getting locked by the driver while it happened. Needless to say, I lost a fingernail and have a scar underneath the newer one.
I managed to break my wrist running down a hill in sixth grade. Turned out my mom (the only person within an hour and a half drive) was in a meeting until 2, so I spent two hours sitting in the office clutching a broken wrist. Add in all the waiting at the doctor’s office and I got the first splint (not including the clipboard taped to my arm by a sympathetic nurse) a full four hours after it broke.