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Oh, I sooo did this! I was ever-the-daredevil, which is why my mother said the local hospital needed to hire a file clerk to wheel my x-rays around. Stitches, crutches, plaster casts, Band-aids on my bony knees, and bruises covering my skinny shins, Mom said I always looked like a refugee. Must be why she called me Evil Knievel or sometimes, Awful Knawful?