Left Handed Swiss Army Knife

Leatherman 830850

Author: ShellSort

Article Source: http://www.articlesbase.com/shopping-articles/leatherman-830850-2824537.html

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Frequently Asked Questions

1. QUESTION:
   How to continue, toddler injured hand in elevator door?
   Today on our way out of the elevator, my 2.5yr old son put his hand on the door as it was opening (too fast for me to grab him), and his entire hand got caught in the left side of the door. Then all of a sudden, the left door started going in and out over his hand, jamming it. I tried everything to get it to stop but it wouldnt and we couldnt get his hand out. a couple mins later a bystander came with a swiss army knife and pried my son's hand out.

   Someone from the store took my info and so did the ambulance. went to er had to get stitches for his laceration.

   I was wondering if I should file a complaint with the mall and if there is anything else I can do about what happened.

   I feel that the elevator door should not have started moving across his hand side to side like that - it should have immediately stopped if something was caught in there. At the very least i would like his ER hospital bill to be covered by the mall/department store we were in. Any feedback is welcomed. Thank

   • ANSWER:
     Your son suffered an injury in a public place, in an area which should be safe for children. You should offer the mall the opportunity to cover all bills, with the agreement that no further legal action will occur.

     Most businesses will gladly accept the offer to avoid any legal action, which will cost them much more, win or lose. If they refuse you should seek the advise of an attorney. Most attorneys will meet with you at no charge to discuss the accident and injury, and decide if you wish to or should proceedat that point.

     Don't rule out any possibility until you have been compensated for the expenses. As a business owner, I would gladly pay for the expenses associated with the injury to avoid having to pay attorney fees, even if I did win the case.

2. QUESTION:
   From what you can tell, is this story good?
   This is just a snippet from a story that I'm writing right now. Please read it and give me feedback! Constructive criticism is really appreciated.

   I make my way to my locker, ignoring the stares and mocking glances that bore into my back. Once I finally get there, the two people on either side of me clear out. They don’t want to be caught standing next to the freaky hermit-girl who killed her best friend, left her sister to die, and lost it in a one-night stand.

   Angrily, I stuff my coat into the metal rectangle and jerk out my books, pushing them haphazardly into my tote. The isolation gets me, every day, even after six months of it. If people just gave me a chance to explain . . . Doesn’t matter. What would having friends do? Take the blame off me for causing two deaths? Redeem me for luring the monsters to rape me that night? Break my addiction to blades and knives?

   No. Why do I even hope? If anything, being alone will just make it that much easier, in the end. No loose ends to tie up, no one’s feelings to hurt. Just me, resolving my demons, for the last time.
   My first class is Trigonometry, with Mr. Jennings. Yippee kayay. Not only is it my worst class, but Mr. Jennings hates me, and Travie is in the class. Triple whammy.

   “Well, Ms. Hunter, thank you for joining us today. Please sit in the back, where your facial . . . accessories won't bother anyone.” Mr. Jennings sniffs disapprovingly, reminding me of my mother, as I stumble into Trig, only thirty seconds late. Mr. Jennings is a short, stout little man with a permanent frown and clunky black dork glasses. His badly balding head shines in sunlight.
   I make my way down the aisle, rolling my eyes at the notion that my facial “accessories” would bother someone. I think he's more worried of having to deal with my mistake-ridden Trig homework. With me in the back, Jennings can “forget” to collect my papers.

   The only available seat in the back row is next to a loudly snoring jock. Looks like I won't be learning anything in the next forty-five minutes, not with this deafening rumble in my ear.

   There’s a couple sitting in front of me, exchanging kisses and caresses while Jennings is turned away. The girl is a polished, skinny redhead with a cheer outfit and leggings. From the glimpses I get of her face, I can tell she's absolutely beautiful. She's the kind of girl I used to be: snuggling with my boyfriend, hoping not to get caught; texting my many friends under the desk: looking forward to the cheerleading practice after school, where we’re going to learn a new routine to get ready for football in the fall.

   Guilt crushes down on me. It’s my fault that I'm not that girl anymore. I just had to be feeling sorry for myself that night when Natalie and Ruby insisted on taking me out. I just had to make sure Natalie was awake to hear the song on the radio, knocking over Ruby’s beer in the process. I had to be so selfish.

   My body reacts from that pain stabbing my heart even before I can think about it too much. I rifle through my tote back, unzipping the pocket inside, and pull out a small but effective Swiss Army knife. It's so small that it can fit in my hand, unseen. Very convenient for mid-class panic attacks.

   I lift up my shirt slightly, my fingers curled around the Swiss Army knife in a loose fist, and lean down in my chair. I lay my other arm over my stomach, resting my hand on my thigh, hiding my armed hand. After I'm sure no one is looking, I don’t hesitate. I jab the end of the blade into my stomach, closing my eyes as the welcome sensation of physical pain overrides the guilt smothering me inside. I let out a shaky breath and smile a little.

   • ANSWER:
     I really like your writing. It avoids that excessive description that is so prevalent in amateur writing. Can you send me the rest of your story when you finish? i would love to read it.

3. QUESTION:
   Do you like my story, or what I give you of it?
   I've already posted this, but I like getting different and mulitple answers. Constructive criticism is appreciated! Thanks.
   ***
   I make my way to my locker, ignoring the stares and mocking glances that bore into my back. Once I finally get there, the two people on either side of me clear out. They don’t want to be caught standing next to the freaky hermit-girl who killed her best friend, left her sister to die, and lost it in a one-night stand.

   Angrily, I stuff my coat into the metal rectangle and jerk out my books, pushing them haphazardly into my tote. The isolation gets me, every day, even after six months of it. If people just gave me a chance to explain . . . Doesn’t matter. What would having friends do? Take the blame off me for causing two deaths? Redeem me for luring the monsters to rape me that night? Break my addiction to blades and knives?

   No. Why do I even hope? If anything, being alone will just make it that much easier, in the end. No loose ends to tie up, no one’s feelings to hurt. Just me, resolving my demons, for the last time.

   My first class is Trigonometry, with Mr. Jennings. Yippee kayay. Not only is it my worst class, but Mr. Jennings hates me, and Travie is in the class. Triple whammy.

   “Well, Ms. Hunter, thank you for joining us today. Please sit in the back, where your facial . . . accessories won't bother anyone.” Mr. Jennings sniffs disapprovingly, reminding me of my mother, as I stumble into Trig, only thirty seconds late. Mr. Jennings is a short, stout little man with a permanent frown and clunky black dork glasses. His badly balding head shines in sunlight.

   I make my way down the aisle, rolling my eyes at the notion that my facial “accessories” would bother someone. I think he's more worried of having to deal with my mistake-ridden Trig homework. With me in the back, Jennings can “forget” to collect my papers.

   The only available seat in the back row is next to a loudly snoring jock. Looks like I won't be learning anything in the next forty-five minutes, not with this deafening rumble in my ear.

   There’s a couple sitting in front of me, exchanging kisses and caresses while Jennings is turned away. The girl is a polished, skinny redhead with a cheer outfit and leggings. From the glimpses I get of her face, I can tell she's absolutely beautiful. She's the kind of girl I used to be: snuggling with my boyfriend, hoping not to get caught; texting my many friends under the desk: looking forward to the cheerleading practice after school, where we’re going to learn a new routine to get ready for football in the fall.

   Guilt crushes down on me. It’s my fault that I'm not that girl anymore. I just had to be feeling sorry for myself that night when Natalie and Ruby insisted on taking me out. I just had to make sure Natalie was awake to hear the song on the radio, knocking over Ruby’s beer in the process. I had to be so selfish.

   My body reacts from that pain stabbing my heart even before I can think about it too much. I rifle through my tote back, unzipping the pocket inside, and pull out a small but effective Swiss Army knife. It's so small that it can fit in my hand, unseen. Very convenient for mid-class panic attacks.
   I lift up my shirt slightly, my fingers curled around the Swiss Army knife in a loose fist, and lean down in my chair. I lay my other arm over my stomach, resting my hand on my thigh, hiding my armed hand. After I'm sure no one is looking, I don’t hesitate. I jab the end of the blade into my stomach, closing my eyes as the welcome sensation of physical pain overrides the guilt smothering me inside. I let out a shaky breath and smile a little.

   • ANSWER:
     I think it's really good A little dramatic, but written very well.

4. QUESTION:
   What should I tell her?
   So here's the deal. This weekend I went with my flatmates (2 girls), and some other friends to a club. At one point in time I went outside to make a call. After i finished talking to the phone, these 2 guys come to me, one of them holding a camera. He showed me a picture of one of my roommate and asked me if i knew how much she charged for an hour. I told him that she is not that kind of girl. He said whatever and they both went for the club. While they were walking I saw the guy take one of those Swiss army knifes out of his pocket, open it, and hide it again in his pocket. I went to him, tapped him on the shoulder and said to leave the girl be if he didn't want any problems. He punched me, the other one held my left hand. I managed to knock them both out, took that guy's knife, and went in the club again. We went to another club to continue having fun. Next morning I found a pretty nasty wound on my fist (I probably hit some teeth) and I needed an explanation. I said I drank too much and I don't remember what happened because I don't like to brag. After a little thinking I realized that I wasn't thinking at all at that time. In mind mind I had to do anything to keep her safe. I am usually a narcissistic person and don't think much about others, that's why i think I'm starting to have feelings for her. The problem is, I don't think she's into me at all, I mean, she never dances with me in a club (goes for others), and she always seems to be angry when I'm around. How and what do you think I should do?

   • ANSWER:

5. QUESTION:
   My new chapter, Need help with book titles too.?
   Okay, its about a girl called Mara and her friend Alistair who mysteriously goes missing while trying to find unaffected food, because a plague was made to kill off skin cancer, but it went terribly wrong. Now everyone is the undead. Walking around and feeding amongst the living. The chapter isn't finished yet, tell me what you think and what the novel should be called.

   1. Alistair

   My eyes fluttered open, sweat pouring off my face. And my head throbbing and screaming at me. I was home, but something was different. I don’t have that alone feeling like I get when I wake up every morning. My hand stayed glued to the gun under my pillow. With a flash, I pulled the gun from under the pillow and pointed it at... nothing. Just the morning sun gleaming underneath the door. I let out a low, long sigh. My paranoia is getting to me again. Ever since Alistair went missing I haven’t been myself. Everything seems to make me jump, even the howl of the wind makes me want to crawl under my bed and hide. I ran my fingers through my short hair. I let out another sigh, “ Jeez I could kill for a cheeseburger” I giggle lightly to myself. I peeped out of the hole made in the boarding, something glistening caught my attention. I bit my lip, risk my life to get this mysterious necessity? But what if it’s a can of peaches in juice? Something I’ve been craving for weeks. Or what if it’s a trap, a can of infected peaches in juice. My brain was still throbbing from the god awful nightmare. I wasn’t usually this intrigued by something perplexing outside. Because its usually a trap. My stomach was, of coarse saying yes, but my head, which is usually right is telling me no. I bite down harder on my lip, not too hard for it to bleed. Because that is plain stupid. Just enough so my mind would think more on the pain then screaming the word No! over again. That was it, with a huff my shorts were on and my gun lodged between my ankle and my combat boots. And three Swiss army knives in my back pockets. I was ready to be torn to pieces. I pulled the boarding enough so I could slip through the crack. The sunlight was hot, and the sweat was already building on my head. I reached down to get my semi loaded gun, but there was nothing there. Except for the pieces of newspaper that blew past. It was strange, too strange. I walked, slowly and cautiously towards the gleaming inanimate object. I bent down, it was a silver locket. Alistair’s locket. I let out a soft sob, proves what happened to him. I ran my fingers over the ingravement on the back, I read it to myself over and over again, “ Alistair Xavier Huff.”
   Tears were building up in my eyes, I’m the only person left. How long till I get ripped to shreds? I had so many question, and I wanted answer. Do I survive this plague outbreak? Is Alistair alive?
   My thinking was interrupted by a voice, his voice. Alistair’s velvet voice. “ Mara, listen to me. You have to run now! They know where you live, its just a matter of time. Please god sakes, please run for me” behind my was a low, and familiar groan. I span around, gun in hand. I shot three times, the blood covered corpse fell to the ground. Splashing mud in my face. I flinched back, I didn’t realize the swarm of the undead behind me. How could I let myself be fooled by this. I got up and began to ran, I didn’t care what direction or where I was going all I needed to do was run.

   Copyright © 2009 by Dana Marie

   • ANSWER:
     Well I enjoyed the content - you have a great imagination! I can't tell you how glad I am to read a zombie story, not a vampire story. That's being done to death these days.

     It does need a lot of work though. First of all, you switch tenses here and there, just take notice of that when you edit. This would be great if the entire thing was in the past tense. There are several fragmented sentences too, but that would be easy to fix. For example, you should never start a sentence with the word 'And.'

     'My eyes fluttered open and sweat was pouring off my face. My head throbbed and screamed at me.' Past tense. Although screamed might not be the best word, consider revising. You didn't exactly explain what felt different. Or did the character think someone was in the house? Just explain better here

     The infected peaches confuses me a bit. If they're in a can that isn't open, they can't be infected. Did the zombies put it there as bait? You already explained thinking it was a trap, no need to repeat.

     'I bit down hard on my lip, but not hard enough for it to bleed. Just enough so my mind would think more on the pain then screaming the word No! over again.' I took out the sentence describing it as stupid because that's too obvious. I'm not sure what you meant by screaming No though.

     It would also be 'Please, for God's sake!' Also, let me show you a way to avoid a fragment, easily. 'I shot three times and the blood covered corpse fell to the ground, splashing mud in my face.'

     It's an intriguing story, just keep working on the grammar and syntax! Keep it up, I liked it a lot.

6. QUESTION:
   Scouts honour?
   What do you call a woman with a bottle-opener in one hand, a knife in the other hand, a pair of scissors between her toes on her left foot, and a corkscew between the toes on her right foot?

   Yep A Swiss Army Wife

   • ANSWER:
     Funny.What do you call a soldier patrolling the german border?
     A Swiss watch.

7. QUESTION:
   Some kind of Joke?
   How many folk singers does it take to screw in a light bulb?
   Two: One to change the bulb, and one to write a song about how good the old light bulb was.

   What did St Patrick say to the snakes when he was driving them out of Ireland?
   'Are yis all right in the back there lads?'

   What did the Essex girl say when she found out she was pregnant?
   'I wonder if it's mine.'

   What do you call a woman with a bottle-opener in one hand, a knife in the other, a pair of scissors between her toes on her left foot and a corkscrew between her toes on her right foot?

   A Swiss Army wife.

   A vasectomy is never having to say you're sorry.

   In America what's the difference between a Northern fairytale and a Southern fairytale?
   A Northern fairytale starts: 'Once upon a time'
   A Southern fairytale starts: 'Y'all ain't gonna believe this sh*t..'

   What does Monica Lewinsky have on her Resume?
   'Sat on the presidential staff'

   • ANSWER:
     Absolutely brilliant!! I will use them all on stage!!
     Star for you!