But it's okay because now you're just stuck in the past as a time paradox.

My dog bites my throat out.

Nevertheless instantly after that you wake up from your nightmare covered in cold sweat, you quickly turn to the framed picture standing on your night stand. There you see the image of "fluffy" your family's beloved poodle. You have a sudden flashback of a night when you came back from a party completely drunk and ended up pissing yourself all over your dad's favourite couch.

The very next morning you framed "fluffy" for the incident, your dad went mad with rage after realizing that his treasured couch had been forever ruined. In response for this personal offense he decided that the dog had gone too far this time and needed to be sacrificed. So he took out the old shotgun and took fluffy for a walk. Later that night he tossed a shoe box that smelled horrible in your lap and told you that since it was "your dog" you should take care of his burial.

Too lazy to drive all the way back to the city, you simply decided to bury the shoe box in the nearest park next to the kids playground which unbeknownst to you had been constructed on top of an ancient Indian graveyard. Now the ghost of fluffy haunts you in your dreams, killing you in horrible and gruesome ways to make you suffer for what you did to her. However, while you die every night in your dreams, you always wake up completely unharmed.

I get bitten by a deadly poisonous snake in the middle of the jungle, I am alone, on foot and the nearest hospital is 300 miles away.

But like Peter Parker being bitten by a spider and gaining super powers so do you. You become the super hero Snakeman.

I was framed for a murder and Snakeman coiled himself round me to capture me and prevent my escape but squeezed too hard preventing me from breathing as well as crushing every bone and ripping apart every muscle in my body leaving me mortally wounded as I was suffering internal bleeding in every part of my body. I die from the injuries.

But only for a little while before Snakeman's healing saliva brings you back.

I saw that Youtube had removed the Monty Python skit for Death from the Meaning of Life and dove under a ten ton vibratory roller.

The ten ton vibratory roller stopped. The only thing you did was hit your head on the sidewalk.

I tied a noose around my neck, tied the other end to the london bridge, took in a poison, shot myself in the head, and jumped.;

At which point you landed safely on the stunt mats and the director yelled "Cut!", ending the shooting of the scene for the movie you are in.

I launch myself into outer space without a spacesuit, with a bomb strapped to my chest that's armed and will detonate when we reach an altitude of 62 miles. Nothing prevents me from reaching 62 miles above the Earth.

The bomb is a dud. You make international news as the person who survived a 62-mile free fall without a parachute.

Cthulu eats me.

You spend the rest of your days in that wonderful theme park known as Cthulu's stomach. The soda is free, the cookies are delicious, and there is no line at the roller coaster. No horrible digestive acids either. Cthulu will only digest your sweet succulent soul.

I cried until I died of dehydration.

Luckily you were in a hospital morning the death of Mittens and they were able to rehydrate you.

I wish the universe killed me with a shiv.

You wish and you wish, but the universe ignores you.

My spirit ascends to a more powerful state of being, leaving my body a withered husk.