Story time: Injuries

I never seem to get masculine injuries.

I've never 'pulled a hammy' kicking the winning goal. I don't have an awesome scar received in a bar fight. I've never sported a cast after breaking my arm diffusing a bomb that was about to destroy Metropolis. Those are the type of injuries that can be worn as a badge of honor. A cast full of names and pictures, scribbled on by the adoring public that visit your bedside as you recuperate from a severe case as awesomeness.

No, for me its always those embarrassing injuries. Take today for example - I have a sore elbow. Why? Well yesterday I helped my brother dig a number of ditches in preparation of his bathroom renovations.On the surface it certainly sounds manly. Injury sustained through hard, manual labor? Helping a mate and brother in the blazing heat? Blood, sweat and tears? Alas, no. See, the reason my arm hurts is because, over our 20 minute lunch break, we threw rocks at an old bath.

I hurt my arm throwing rocks.

I didn't actually get any to land in the bath.

Thus goes the story of my life. A childhood fraught with embarrassing injuries.

Embarrassing injury #1: Breaking my foot at the ATM.

When I say foot, I mean little toe. See where this is heading?I went to the ATM late one night and, after checking my balance, fell down the stairs, smashing my foot as I ungracefully fell to the pavement. I lay there for a full minute before limping back to the car. The next morning my foot was the size of my ego (large, embarrassing), so I went to the hospital. I didn't get a cast (masculine), I got crutches (not).Two weeks I hobbled around in my bandage. I still have a calcified lump there that hurts when it gets cold.The worst part of the whole thing? I didn't have any money in my account. The trip was a complete waste of time. Awesome.

Embarrassing injury #2: I burnt my elbow on the kettle.

Doing the dishes one night as a child, I was drying a plate when I held my left elbow over the steam emanating from a nearby boiling kettle. The result was a pus-filled burn roughly the size of a frisbee.

Embarrassing injury #2.5: Breaking the burn.

Days later, my mother took me, my brother and a friend to the pool. I was running along some hot concrete, interestingly enough with the words "No Running" painted beneath my excited little feet, when I slipped and fell.I scraped my gigantic, pus-filled burn across the ground, ripping the tender skin. This resulted in, well, pus, but also 10cm strands of skin dangling from the area. Mum took us home, complaining that she hadn't been able to finish her laps.Around the same time, My twin brother cut his chin after a mis-timed bomb jump into the pool. That's damn masculine, he even got a cool scar and stitches. Much cooler than scraping your kettle burn.

Embarrassing injury #3: Jumping off a cliff.

Sure, jumping off a cliff sounds cool. Unfortunately I did it because we were planning the stunts for the Predator 2 movie we were going to make, and the cliff was about a metre high.This was after we abandoned our Nightmare on Elm Street project, as we were uncomfortable with the thought of an unhinged friend walking around with knives on their fingers.This was the first time I broke my foot, as I landed quite awkwardly. I was cruelly denied a cast as mum didn't believe it was broken and by the time I went to the doctor the injury had healed.Instead of becoming the centre of attention that people in casts always are - people flock to sign your pain - a game developed where people would yell insults at me so I would chase them, take two steps and crumple to the ground in pain.The salt in the wound is that we later discovered there was already a Predator 2 movie, involving stunts much more impressive then a skinny boy with glasses and a "Skate or Die" singlet jumping off a small cliff.

Other embarrassing injuries: Burning my wrist on a test tube. Spraining my ankle after catching it under a see-saw. Scraping my hands on a pile of bricks I was trying to jump onto 'ninja style'. Breaking a tooth on a vodka bottle while swimming. Stomach problems after eating a kilogram of Milo for dinner. Developing a migraine after eating two packets of jelly crystals for dinner. Burning my fingers after grabbing a heated glass rod. Bruising my face after colliding with a team member on the Sandball court. Bruising my face after running into a sliding glass door. Numerous paper cuts - the most inglorious of all injuries.

The injuries still continue. Recently I slipped and fell quite heavily after unwittingly flooding a room while trying to clean a fishtank.

In the near future Eileen and I are going to begin renovations on our new house. Surely a masculine injury awaits. Pass me the drill.

One last point; People waste a lot of time debating whether certain people are gay or not. Take the above blog for example. A man whining about idiotic injuries would probably be gay, no? Surely straight guys never actually use the word masculine? Well that's where you're wrong. The real indicator of sexuality you should be looking for is whether or not the blog contains the word "awesome". In this case I, without thinking, used the word awesome about six times. This means I am straight. Try it yourself. Always works. It's awesome.