• a dining room table

I was climbing a bookshelf to the top (as you do) when i was a naughty young thing, and it fell back on top of me. Luckily I had a nice soft wooden table to break the fall. It remained split in half for many years after.

• my foot

A gymnastics related accident, involving a terrible carthweel, a subsequent refusal to sit down and rest it properly and a complete unawareness of the apparent pain I should have been in

• an mp3 player

Just by transferring data rather than music onto it. Why don't people tell you these things happen?

• a stained glass window

By putting a roller-blade clad foot through it, right before I was taking off for school. With me around, things broke a lot in our household.

• a car

Driving home from work around Kew way, my car cut out (from a previous accident) so by the time I had the brakes working again, I had to short stop behind another car. Which subsequently revered back into me. Terrifying moment, like demented bumper cars for grown up morons. The majority of damage with the U2 listening dickface jock dude's fault but I copped all of the blame.

• two hearts

Allegedly more than actually I think. I think two is pretty minimal for an early twenties existence.

• a desk

By trying to move it when it was clearly already fucked. The sides just folded in on each other. I have to admit it was kinda fun ripping it to pieces after it was already mostly gone. Why can I say, I like destruction.

• a mirror

Because I'm a tanty-throwing child that put my fist in it when I was upset once. A silly idea for all involved; the mirror was trashed and threw out bits of deceptively shart glass dust all over my carpet, which proceeded to embed themselves in my bare feet for weeks following, and my knuckles were cut to shit.

• assorted plates, mugs and glasses

Because I drop shit. Always have, always will.

• a pair of glasses

By dropping them out of my car and running over them. I still have the twisted frames, they look kind of cool.