One of my earliest memories is of being hit in the face with a wooden block in preschool. This little asshole juvenile delinquent of a four-year-old decided to throw one of his little temper tantrums when we were conveniently playing with wooden building blocks. He threw one from maybe twenty feet away and the edge of it smacked me right below the right eye. When it happened, it dazed me so much I wasn't really aware of the pain. I think I was unconscious for a little while, because the next thing I remember was lying down on a hospital bed with a nurse standing over me stitching my cheek flesh back together. I think it must have hit the eye itself a bit, because I also seem to remember them doing something incredibly painful to my eyeball.
Up until a few years ago, you could still see a line just below my eye where it cut my cheek.
__________________
Step right up and shoot pasties off the nipples of a ten-foot bull dyke! Win a cotton candy goat!
|