Lotsa testimonials, but only one image. Don’t be shy folks! 
Uh, huh…no way. The last time I exposed that much skin was on a beach. People kept splashing water on me and trying to roll me down into the surf. 
Emmline, I’m with you on the barbed-wire scars. You get a better class of scar from barbed wire.
I have a four-inch-long, 1/4 inch wide scar on my left forearm, the result of walking into a barbed-wire fence in the dark, crossing a field in the Peak District, in an attempt to get back to the Youth Hostel before Curfew. We made it. And I have the scar to prove it. There was some talk of me getting stitches, but it never happened. Never felt a thing. Only realised I’d been perforated when blood started dripping from my sleeve.
(When I was twenty.)
Also, a small one-inch scar up in the hairline, which mucks up any attempt at a parting. This was the result of someone kicking closed a door which happened to have my head in the doorway. (When I was twelve.)
My left index finger looks as though I decided to whittle it. This is the result of fifty years of cack-handedness with stanley-knives and the like.
my gunshot wound
I think I saw that on an episode of “ER” - some crackhead shot you because you saved some guy he just capped, right?
Loren