...God, I could write a book about all the stupid shit I used to do as a kid, and maybe someday I will.

This was one of those things. While exploring early ballistics experiments, I failed to recognize the most important rule: Namely, don't stand in front of the projectile...

...Or rather, my friends failed to stop launching things, because it was clear I was picking up rocks, I told them I was picking up rocks, and I was right where all the other projectiles landed (The rocks I was picking up). Sometimes you have to trust others to act intelligently, and sometimes this trust is ill placed.

After the initial strike + blood, we quickly scurried off to a bath-house to clean up my nose (For some reason, we were convinced we would have been in trouble with my parents...My house was right next to this water meter), but my shirt got a bit blood stained. When I told my parents a bit later that evening, after the gushing stopped, they just shrugged it off, and told me to change my shirt before going to eat out at a restaurant.