Once, when I was 10. It happened on the day that a bunch of freaks, presumably they were drama students who had been turned down as extras for "Sergeant Bilko" or another contemporary television production, visited my school to give us a play/musical (They actually said "play slash musical") about recycling. I remember a song about glass, and my friends made an alternate version to it which went a little something like "Glass, glass, shove it up your ass!" which, now that I think about it, sounds quite painful.

Anywho, they were calling kids up to the front and asking them things like "Where should you take bottles? To a bottle bank or to Australia?" (Not an actual quote) and guess what, I was called up next! "What's your name, young man?" "..." "What's your name?" "..." "Uh....well...what should we do with cans?" "..." "We should take them to the recycling centre, shouldn't we? "..." I think the guy thought I was retarded or something, so he handed me a leaflet on recyling and I got to sit back down. I will never forget the look of pure hatred he gave me.

I got my voice back...sorta...by breaktime, so I joined in with my friends in loudly singing the shoving glass up your ass song.

...what, you expected a punchline or something? Okay, the next day that guy was kidnapped and murdered by landfill site employees! Hohohoho!