Few years ago I crashed whilst sledging, I abandoned the sledge, rolled over, as I did so I crunched my plums, I blacked out from the pain

Years ago, an old mate of mine had an over the bars when he hit a parked car. Lying on the bonnet he seemed fine, until he saw the blood and realised he’d caught his sack on one of the thumb shifters and ripped it open.

He has kids now so can’t gave done too much damage.

I used to deal with vehicle accident injury claims – there is a reason that the petrol cap on a motorcycle fuel tank is flush nowadays rather than standing proud at testicle snagging height

Playing hockey against Wakefield in the early 80s so we were on grass.
Our full back hit a free hit like a rocket, it clipped a tussock of grass and started to lift. I dived out of the way and turned to see the guy marking me jump in the air legs spread wide and the ball appeared to just glance the bottom of his shorts before disappearing off the pitch.

The opposition player landed gymnast style with legs together, dropped his stick, turned on his heels and ran, he ran off the pitch, jumped over a small hedge, out of the ground and up the road.

He was in the clubhouse after the match and said the ball had just kissed his nuts on its way through and the pain was so excruciating all he could think of doing was to run home.

Not baw-sack related but….

6 or so years back I finally bit the bullet and got a long-standing ingrown big toenail looked at. There and then, they said it had to come out.

It was apparently a ‘difficult’ one- lots of grunting and tearing sounds as they removed it- I daren’t look. Anyway, they patched it up, dressed it, gave me some medium strength painkillers (apparently I’d be needing them soon) and sent me on my way.

Jings. Later that evening, the burning, throbbing mess was almost unbearable. The pk’s just about took the edge off.

I couldn’t walk for a week- couldn’t put a sock on, couldn’t really weight-bear at all. Normally have an ok pain threshold- this was awful.

Gradually, over a week or so, it died down. Getting the dressing changed showed that they’d managed to rip a tear right down the middle of the nail bed. No wonder it was so bloody sore.

I managed to get a bath on the Sunday afternoon and could just about take tepid water on the toe itself. Things were improving. Got out of the bath, gingerly drying myself off- missus walks in, and with unerring accuracy managed to drive the spike of her left high-heeled shoe through the slightly softened scab.

I have little recollection of what happened next- the screaming I do remember, as well as her putting some painkillers she’d borrowed from her mother through the letter-box sometime later that day…

OP, look on the bright side; at least your father of the bride speech will raise a few laughs.

Thought I would make a potato cannon ..humm

So following ‘loosely’ instructions off the internet. Parts were gathered , 1 x 5″ plastic drain manifold with inspection cap. 1 x igniter from old gas fire, 3 foot of 2 1/2″ pipe, glue and a few odds and sods and a spud cannon was born.

Twas an ugly construction but after the first injection of Lynx deodorant and subsequent ignition, the foot and half of flame that shot out the top and scorched the kitchen ceiling left us in awe.

A few experiments with wet bread was successful and left us chuckling. It was time to ram a spud down the pipe and gas her up … oh the sound and sight, of a good size spud disappearing over the tree tops amazed even the Mrs.

All went well for a while distributing free spuds across the neighbourhood until I put 2 in the pipe:(

The back pressure blew the blanking plug from the bottom of the assembly clipping my left nut as it passed by. I managed to get back up after a while in the foetal position and gingerly inspect the damage. I am amazed at the size a mans ball can actually achieve after an impact. Fortunately no lasting damage done, but a lesson was learnt – don’t pretend your firing spuds out ya knob – keep the cannon away from the body.

but a lesson was learnt – don’t pretend your firing spuds out ya knob

Indeed, a mantra I’ve always lived by. 😛

OP it gets worse- 2yr old having a tantrum wearing wellies skirming and running on the spot. Que me 😳

Taekwon-do sparring roughly 3 years ago. Semi contact against a green belt (I’m a black belt so keeping it light hearted). I’m keeping him at bay by keeping a leg up, foot at chest height and occasionally clipping him atound the ear when he over ambitious. Right up to the point he swings his leg as hard as possible and smacks his foot right into my plums.
The next thing I remember is the instructor tellingly me to put the pain aside and carry on, only could I clear the sick up first…