Snitches get stitches

Cutting towards your body with a knife called the terminator seems like a mistake that is easily avoided.  However, there's a certain brand of dickhead who doesn't hold on to basic knife safety lessons that began with their first pocketknife from some tourist trap in Cherokee.  This particular brand of dickhead would be the sort who would invent a reason to go out and buy the biggest sharpest fucking knife that he could find, provided it was twenty dollars or less of course.  This shaft helmet would also be the sort who would go on to no end about all the cutting that was to occur once this sharp ass knife was purchased.  The given reason for getting my hands on a badass knife was to whittle down sticks to roast marshmellows with.  But let's call a turd a turd here.  I wanted a knife cause knives are awesome.  Cutting shit is fun and you have fun when you cut shit.  Cool guys don't look at explosions, but they do have badass knives clipped to their belts when they do it.  I only wish that I had gotten the opportunity to do some more cutting since it was the first cut with my brand new sharp ass knife that I made that took me out of commission.  It wasn't fair, if you're going to get hurt doing something stupid, you should get some fun out of it.  As it is, I cut the fuck out of my finger and all I got were some stupid jokes and a hospital bill. 
When the blade slipped off of the branch I was cutting and into my flesh the idea initially came to me to try to hide the cut.  I had spent so much of the day spewing feces from my mouth about how much cutting I was going to do and how much of a better place the world would be with me as a sharp ass knife owner.  When I bought the knife, the cashier who could best be described as an old lady warned me not to get into trouble with the knife.  She said this in such a way that led me to believe she thought I was going out stabbing that evening.  Cause, you know, it's a summer night in a mountain town and that's what you do right? You knife those bitches.  This idea of mine to conceal the wound lasted approximately one to two seconds.  The idea sort of got shat on when I realized how much I was bleeding.  There was no way I would be able to hide the damage I had done to myself.  Everyone was going to know, and all of that bullshit that came out of me about buying a knife and fucking up some sticks was coming right back at me.
I think that maybe you don't know that much about yourself until you seriously injure yourself.  Maybe  this cut doesn't meet the criteria for a serious injury but it is the most serious injury I have ever suffered.  I was kind of a weenis when I was a kid.  I never broke a bone, I never did a bunch of stupid shit that could of killed me.  The first thing you realize is how stupid you are for doing the thing that injured you.  Pulling a knife called the terminator towards your body.  Really?  That's a thing that I did that seemed like the right idea.  How could I get so dumb when I'm holding a thing so sharp.  Shouldn't I have gotten smarter when I'm holding something that dangerous.  What happens if I ever have to fight for my life?  Am I going to cockpunch myself and get murked?  That didn't make much sense, but it occurred to me to use cockpunch and I couldn't think of another way to get it in.  The other thing you learn about yourself is how you're going to deal with that shit.  Maybe it was because somehow gashing half of my thumb off didn't really hurt.  I've had stubbed toes that hurt worse than blading myself did.  It certainly wasn't for a lack of a bloody fucking mess that I was able to keep my cool.  Regardless of the reason, I did keep my wits about me pretty well despite the situation which is a good thing to know that you're capable of.  I just realized that you run out of space with these things so I'll have to finish this story later.