Like A Boot From A Clear Sky

Today I was kicked in the head by a flying boot. Was out tossing a tennis ball to my stepsiblings, aged 10 and 12. One of them was up on a small “earth cellar” hill, tossing the ball to her big brother down on the ground, who had a baseball bat. I fetched the ball for them.

I was walking away from the small hill, when I heard the girl yell something. I turned around, and was suddenly hit in the face by her boot. The shoe was loose on her foot, and when she dangled her legs about out of eagerness, it suddenly dislodged itself and flew through the air. It struck with surprising force and sent me knocked to the ground, glasses flying. No lense damage. All an innocent accident, but damn funny.

Tomorrow I’ll have to see if the optician can bend back the spectacle frame properly. If people wonder why I have a big bruise on my right cheek, I’m split over joking that an angel flew down and kicked me in the head, or say that a drone lost battery and fell down. :tongue:

Random event of the day documented. Do you have any fun little everyday stories to share? Please do so here if you like!


I’ll repost my silly injury from discord in case anyone missed a chance to laugh at my misfortune:

I had a stupid random injury last year.

30th birthday and for a brief time a few family members were allowed over in the garden because some restrictions were lifted. My birthdays in July and the sun was out so seemed like a good plan.

Now I’ve got a big stupid dog. He’s lovely but can be a pain in the arse with company and lots of food out. And I wanted to have a nice relaxing time.

So I paid to put him in the kennels down the road that I normally put him in if I go on Holiday.

Anyway - it’s my birthday- I walk into the garden to greet my family and I fall over. And I’m like wtf?!
Then I try to stand up and I fall over again and I’m like - Christ I’ve only had one beer.

I look down - dislocated ankle. And obviously thats when it starts hurting!

How? The dog had dug a tiny hole in my lawn before I took him to the kennels and I’d twisted and dislocated my ankle in it.

Happy birthday to me…

So I guess the dog got some kind of cosmic revenge for not being invited to my party :joy::joy::joy:


Oh no guys :man_facepalming:t2: good luck with the old glasses there @Admiral but I do hope your face gets better soon mainly and of course @Oxymandias I hope I didn’t take too long for that ankle to get better… feckin dogs eh :grin:
I too have one.

On my way to work…

I can’t remember if I was late, must have been a little as I was running down the hill in my work clothes, shirt and jeans and my favourite jacket at the time (reminded me of Wolverines jacket from the film’s) downhill towards the office.

I’m a capable runner, maybe even a little better than capable but today for whatever reason I managed to clip my boots (the fact I was wearing boots may have played a part in this :grin:) on a paving stone causing myself, as I was running downhill remember, to go head over heels and crash down to floor ruining my favourite jacket…

…how did I ruin my jacket you say?

Not through any rip or tare, no, I ruined my favourite jacket because as I was running to work I was carrying with me my favourite food. Yep, whilst going head over the heels the homemade lasagne I was looking forward to for dinner preceded to open up all over me and my jacket

By the time I got home the food and jacket had become one never to part from each other again, I can’t remember what I did have for food that day but it wasn’t lasagne. My wife cries laughing every time she thinks of it, she knows how much I like lasagne :joy::man_shrugging:t2:


@GhraskDragh this made me genuinely chuckle haha. :joy::joy::joy: Great story, told very well.


well, you know…i mean.


I had it coming! :smiley:

@Oxymandias : Sorcerer’s curse struck fast!

@GhraskDragh : Haha, wonderful anecdote!


Well I don’t think I can stack up to these hilarious stories but here’s an old tidbit that turned into a wargaming adjacent inside joke.

My childhood friend that got me into Warhammer lived on a street with quite a substantial hill. Being just a quick walk from the elementary school where both of our mothers taught, we spent many after school hours pouring over miniatures, painting our LotR SBG armies. Most days we’d look out the window and see his dad and neighbor conversing from either side of the fence, in a classic “Dad leaning over the fence” sort of way. Both of them were huge vintage car buffs.

On some days, with a good view looking down the hill, we’d watch his neighbor pull a car out of the garage, 68 Chevy Nova if memory serves, then grab a lawn chair and set it up near the car. He’d sit there facing the car with the sun beating down for hours. No newspaper, no cellphone (wasn’t a thing back then), no book, nothing at all, and definitely not sleeping either judging by mannerisms and intermittent repositioning. This phenomenon was pretty baffling to us kids that when kicked outside would typically be seen running around screaming at 64 miles per hour, or chucking pine cones (and sometimes rocks, whoops) at each other while holding sticks like lightsabers. We wrote this off as just one of those ol’ folks oddities. Surely with our pile of hobbies we’d never find ourselves in such a state.

Fast forward from childhood to mid 20s. School and careers have taken us wargaming buddies in different ways. But whenever we visit each other we have endless Warhammer catch up to do. Our parents would always gripe to us that we never discuss real life, just Warhammer. To which our resounding response is consistently, “well yeah of course, he’s the only person I’ll never feel bad subjecting to endless ranting on plastic spacemen and heroic fantasy”. We’re on the clock and need to spit it out while we can. All that talking leaves one pretty gassed, sure we’d spend some of it painting together, and by the end there would be newly painted minis to soak in. Pull up a chair, stay a while. Time passes fast when ogling at beloved possessions. Sound familiar?

Ogling isn’t quite the correct word though. Has lecherous implications.
Staring? yeah that’s part of it but not fully evocative.
Relishing, basking, luxuriating, savoring… nothing quite seemed to capture it fully

We needed some word to casually slip into conversation to refer to these moments of “yeah, dam straight I’m just gonna sit here enjoying this thing I’ve poured hours of my soul into, get off my metaphorical lawn with your judgement”. Enter the neighbor, Mr. Fosche. The original foscher and creator of the fosche effect.

Any of you find yourselves sitting there fosching your painted minis?


Mate I’m 100% a Foscher


I might be a mother Foscher? :thinking:

Great story @Reaver , it’s great how these things can come around full circle :grin:


I’m gonna just leave that one be… haha

Interesting that fosching both helps and hurts greys disease. A good fosche-sesh can be an excellent motivator to turn grey piles into foscheable minis. Yet extended periods of fosching detract from precious time to make the grey go away.

One of the most dangerous fosches for me is the finished kitbash fosche. At that stage it can be hard to control the fosche effect. Unfortunately this can help the grey persist. Cure for this stage is the primer coat. Slap that on, blend the kitbash together, immediate motivation to get that mini painted and reach final stage fosching.


I find myself fosching every time I go to the basement or finish a set of models. Part of it is looking at things I’ve done for inspiration, while another part is looking at the things I’ve painted, realising I can always do more, or better. Straight up spent an entire hour today going from army to army on my bookshelf, and I don’t think I have anything at all to show for it (save the satisfaction of seeing my army slowly get better and better)