Alright, a story about how I impaled myself on a gate.

My freshman year of college, probably a month in, I was living in the dorms and was in the regular practice of gathering a group of friends from my hall to go smoke weed at the "moontower" (god I love D&C). It is actually the coaches tower on the practice fields so that the coaches can see what's happening. It was a great place to get stoned, it is about 50 feet tall and stands right next to a walking path along the river, really a beautiful spot to sit and get stoned.

So one night we decided to cut through the fields instead of going around. Now, the fields are about five feet higher than the walking path, and the tower stands on the walking path's level. I had always approached the tower A)from the walking path side, and B)at night. So I pass through the gate from the fields, and step over what I think is just a little chunk of concrete. Turns out the chunk of concrete was actually a wall around the tower. It was only an inch or two above the ground on the field side, but it fell five feet to the concrete pad below. Before I continue, I should mention that the tower is on this pad, surrounded by a chain link fence, and then the wall. As it happened, the gate was swung open at the time of my fall. On this gate was a latch, the kind you see on many gates of this type, kind of like a pivoting horseshoe. This latch was pointed up. As I fell sideways (only my right leg was over the wall), I hit the edge of the open gate and slid down the side. The latch embedded into the side of my right buttcheek about four inches, and then flipped over and I fell to the ground, which fucking hurt too.

I don't know if you have sustained an injury of this severity, but it goes almost completely numb, with just a dull throb moments after it happens. So I get up, hurting all over, and my friends first ask if I'm ok, and after I assure them that I'm fine, and "I only ripped my pants and hit the ground", they proceed to laugh at me nonstop until we reach the top of the tower. We sat on the tower, smoked numerous bowls, watched the people on the path below us, and had a generally good time.

After returning to the dorms, I decided to inspect my wound. The latch had ripped through my pants, through my boxers, and left a hole roughly four inches deep, two inches long and an inch wide in the side of my ass. My right leg was soaked with blood, and after seeing the damage, I promptly passed out and conked my head on the floor of the bathroom. I regained conciousness a few moments later, cleaned out my wound, which at that point really began to hurt, but was no longer bleeding. I got myself cleaned up, threw some gauze on it and taped that in place with some athletic tape and went to sleep. It took a full month before I could run again, and I have a scar that is about two inches long, an inch wide, and about 1/2 inch below the level of the rest of my ass cheek.

That's one of many strange stories I have accumulated over the last 4 1/2 years of school. I have more, but as SP said, it's finals time, and I'm a senior planning on graduating in two weeks. Back to the books....

Peas out