"I looked at my hand and my little finger was gone – the bone was sticking out. It’s the weirdest feeling; one second you’re fine and your little finger is there, and the next second it’s gone. It shoves reality up your backside. I was in so much pain and shock that the first thing that hit my head was the beat and the bass. The bass was hard, so I just ripped off my top, wrapped it around my finger and tied it up as tight as I could and skanked it out for half an hour. My mentality was, ‘I’ve only been here for an hour, I’ve paid £10 for this night, I’ve lost my little finger – am I seriously going to go? Nah, I’m going to skank until I can’t skank any more.’ After that, my mate dragged me down to the paramedics."
Friends later told him that a “bunch of stoners found [his] little finger and were playing catch with it.”
Imagine this: You’re sitting in your animation history class. Your professor says that your classmate who sits two empty seats away from you is going to show his animation. Joy!
Then, projected ten feet tall in glorious HD, is an autobiographical piece about his life problems and his manic pixie dream girl purple skunk girlfriend. Complete with fade to black sex. And masturbation scene.
Imagine that and you will know a fraction of my pain.