Hand raised here for more drunk antics, probably mid 2000's riding my Barracuda Jaw down the stairs, out the fire exit & down the steps at my old bedsit & ruined myself on the latter part thanks to slippy moss and dulled reflexes.
Another gooden would be around '02 the chain snapping on my mullet jump bike (built on my brother's outgrown Emmelle or Apollo something or other frame before I even knew what a mullet bike was, it just made sense to me at the time) and taking my right shin to the bone on the fresh 'n' sharp rat traps. One of the few scars still readily visible on me today...