I was drunk, in my teens, and being a complete asshole running up and down a ledge on the edge of the roof of my building trying to scare my girlfriend. Tried to turn around and stepped right off. Luckily, I landed on my feet on the balcony one floor down.

I worked at one of those ‘Slingshot’ rides in college and would do a weekly inspection of the towers (175 feet tall) by climbing to the top of each. I had a climbing harness attached to a steel cable that ran the length of the towers. The very final time I did the inspection before transferring to a new college, I got to the top and realized I wasn’t attached to the cable, and would have plummeted to the Earth had I fallen. As soon as I noticed this, I panicked a little and nearly lost my grip. It took me about 5 excruciating minutes to slowly position myself to where I could re-attach without falling to an untimely death.

I had a gun pulled on me because I flipped off a guy who cut me off in traffic. Gotta love New Orleans.

I worked as a cameraman in High School, and one of the things we did was film the school’s basketball games. At the end of a game, I went to remove a wire that we ran under the bleachers. These particular bleachers had an electric system to close them. I had to crawl way under them because the wire was stuck under this little wheel. Here’s the image: I am lying down, with my arm under the first wheel of the bleachers.

I hear a loud buzzing sound, and the bleachers start to move. First thought: f**k, f**k, f**k, f**k. I am under these bleachers and the stupid custodian is closing them on top of me. I yank my arm out of the wheel basin just in time and start screaming incomprehensibly. My friend hears me and he starts screaming, too. The custodian finally stops the bleachers, probably 5 seconds after I started screaming. If I hadn’t backed up in time my head would have been crushed.

I almost choked to death on a chicken sandwich. It was dry, and I was sitting in my car eating it. It became like glue and I couldn’t get it down, so I started choking. I had no water, and I couldn’t breathe. I was freaking out something fierce. Then this old man sees me choking, opens my car door, and proceeds to administer the Heimlich maneuver. The old guy saved my life.

Driving through the mountains with a friend, I was very low on gas. The car was chugging and sputtering as it ran off the last fumes. I knew it was all downhill to the next town and I could probably make it to the outskirts if I turned the engine off and just coasted in neutral. For some reason, I took the keys out of the ignition after turning it off. This locked the steering wheel and there was a sharp turn coming up with nothing beyond it but space for free-fall. Once I realized what I had done I tried to get the key back in, dropped them of course, and so I slammed on my non-powered brakes as hard as I could, and barely stopped in time. My friend thought I was just messing with him, he didn’t realize the keys were out and that I couldn’t steer.

Driving to work one morning in late winter, I lost control of my car. After a short spin on the ice and slush, the back half of the car had jumped the curb and was stuck in someone’s front yard. Ten minutes later, the car is in Drive, and I’m standing in front of it, hands on the hood, rocking the car back and forth. I’m pushing and retreating, pushing and retreating, trying to get the car over the curb.

My feet slip out from under me and I fall, face-first into the icy muck and water. The car, finally deciding it was tired of fucking with me, jumps the curb, and, being in Drive, rolls forward. The front bumper catches me in the top of the head, just as I’m rocking back to get air… since, as I’d mentioned, the ice and slush was ankle-deep, and I’d just face-planted right into it.

The impact from the car forced my face down, back underwater, and the car rolled forward. The bumper ground my face into the pavement, and eventually, the car stopped – my torso was preventing it from making any more progress. I was pinned, without air, under two tons of ’79 Buick Regal. Headlines flashed before my eyes. “Local man drives over his own head; drowns in shame.” I wrenched my head free of the bumper, scraping the skin off my chin, the tip of my nose, and cutting the back of my neck on the metal edge of the bumper. The car rolled forward, as I scrambled away from it, and it ran over my left hand. No broken bones, but it bruised the whole hand really nicely. I managed to scramble after the rolling Buick, pull myself in the open door, and stop the car. I walked into work, soaking wet, bleeding freely, and shivering like I had a steady low-key seizure, and politely requested the day off.

When I was a kid, I leaned on the screen window of our apartment and it broke. I fell 3 stories but lucky I didn’t get injured too much.

Almost choked to death during a hamburger eating contest with my sister. Got kicked out of Wendy’s for spitting hamburger on one of their tables after giving myself the Heimlich.

When my ex and I were still dating, I use to make her sit down on my face and sort of just smother me. She always had a big butt, which is why I took pride in completely engulfing myself in it. I’m an ass man. Anyways, one night we were in the midst of foreplay wrestling and she pinned me down sitting directly on my face with her cheeks smothering me.

I put up a weak fight to make it look like I was giving some sort of resistance, just to make it more fun. Usually, when she sits on my face she’ll take a break to let me breathe for a few seconds then plop right back down on my face. This time was different. She was preoccupied with the VMA awards, and after seconds of me “Pretending” to struggle, I was really doing it.

Almost a minute passed and I was completely knocked out from a lack of air. She immediately shot up off of me after noticing my penis was no longer erect. She called an ambulance after receiving instructions of CPR or mouth to mouth from the dispatcher, who was trying to calm her down. The most awkward part about this is explaining my “Fetish” to the EMT and Firefighters.

When I was younger, my brother and I went exploring in the woods. We found a sweet-ass vine and decided we were gonna cut it loose from the tree and swing on it. Black stuff leaking out of the vine, whatever, I’m Tarzan. Get black vine-juice on me as I swing from the vine into a bed of green foliage. Vine was poison ivy, the foliage was poison oak. I almost went blind, almost asphyxiated, and was in the hospital for a week as swollen as a pumpkin.

After being diagnosed with type 2 diabetes I was still learning the ropes and chugged a large milky way hot chocolate. I was comatose for 12 hours. I almost killed myself with hot chocolate.

I suggested to my friend that we should ghost ride (for those who don’t know, ghost riding is essentially dancing around/on top of a car while it is rolling down a street, usually in neutral). He says that I can if I want to, but he will not. I figure he is moving somewhere between 5 and 10 MPH, so I figure I’ll just jump out of the car and he will slow down after. I unbuckle the seatbelt, open the door, and jump out…he was going 30 MPH. My face hit the pavement and bounced a couple of times as his tire grazed the top of my head.

One night, my roommates and I came home from the bar, drank some more, and then started to pass out. Roommates A and B (myself included) passed out in the living room on couches. Roommate C puts a frozen pizza in the oven, goes into the room, locks the door, and passes out. Roommate D is in his room on the second-floor sleeping because he had to work at 6 or 7 the next morning. Eventually, Roommate D wakes up because he is choking on smoke. He rolls out of bed and crawls downstairs to find smoke billowing out of the oven. He tries to air out the house by opening the doors while yelling loud obscenities at Roommates A and B asleep on couches. I’m fairly certain that without Roommate D, Roommates A-C would have succumbed to carbon monoxide poisoning.

I was 16 and working at my first job in a restaurant bussing tables. It was my first time closing and I was told to mop the floor. I figured if one cleaner cleans good, then all the cleaners would clean awesomely and I would get a raise because of how shiny I made the floor. The floor was sort of smoking and there was a harsh smell but somehow nothing happened and I finished the job and went home. A few days later one of the managers was going over some safety points with us and I learned about what happens when you mix bleach and ammonia.