Tales from the REAL O.C. - Oconee's Own One-Eyed Willie
- posted by Legal Bitch @ 1:40 PM | Permanent Link

This week I'd like to share with my loyal readers the tale of one of my worst childhood injuries. It's the main reason eyeballs gross me out and I hate golf.

When I was 5 and my brother was 10, my grandmother bought my big bro a set of kiddie golf clubs (against my parents' wishes). My brother went nuts. He dug holes in our yard and placed plastic cups inside of them to create tees and made flags out of pvc pipe and construction paper. Since I had no friends my own age, I followed my brother around like a shadow. One day, my brother was outside playing golf, and didn't realize (or so he claims) that I was standing about 3 feet behind him. He swung back, yelling "Fore!" and slammed the golf club directly into my left eye.

I grabbed my eye, which was streaming blood and started screaming. My brother stood there shocked as I crawled around the front yard and into the house through the front door, at exactly the same time my parents came flying out the back door. My dad saw my brother standing with a bloody golf club in his hand and immediately knew my brother had beat the crap out of me somehow. He raced over, broke the club over his knee, and started beating my bro senseless. I wish Dad would have been more concerned about my welfare, as by this time I had crawled into my bed and decided to try to fall asleep (go into a coma). My mother found me semi-conscious in a pool of my own blood about 10 minutes later, and bundled me into the car to go to the emergency room.

My brother scratched the shit out of my cornea, busted most of the blood vessels in my eye socket, and gave me a severe concussion. I had to wear an eye patch for a few months, and every night my mom had to put drops in my eyes that burned like hell in order to help it heal, and clean out all the blood and puss that would collect in my patch during the day. That's a mother's love, because I would not do that nasty shit for anyone.

Worse yet, I was in kindegarten at the time, and all the kids made pirate jokes about me. "GRRRR matey!" I wouldn't mind being a pirate if there was actually treasure involved. But it got even worse as after a particularly nasty fall off the see-saw, I was banned from the playground for my lack of depth perception, and spent recess by my teacher Miss Martha's side. But I got those kindegarten bastards back - one day when some snot-nose was making fun of me I said "Wanna see something gross?" and pressed down with my finger on my eye patch so the puss would ooze out between the holes of the gauze - EEEEEEWWWWWW!

Stay tuned for next week, when you'll hear about how I narrowly avoided contracting rabies. Only in the REAL O.C., baby!