When I was nine, I went to stay with my dad in this huge custom build Swedish house. Rather than normal walls, it had all this rippling artistic glass, and stuff. One night, my dad tells me I have to go to bed early, because he's throwing a party. Grudgingly, I go to sleep, but around midnight, I wake up really hungry. I figure there'll be some food downstairs what with the party, so I go down, and I see Mick Jagger and Keith Richards. This completely blows my mind, and we end up talking for a few minutes. Then I see a mound of white powder on the table. Being a kid, I assume it's sugar and start taking fingers of it and eating it.
It turned out to be black tar heroine. At this point, my dad walks in, and seeing me all fucked up starts going psycho on Jagger and Richards. They start having a bit of a fight, but then he heaves them against the wall, doing quite a bit of damage. Cracks start running floor to ceiling.
When I woke up the next morning, he asked me if I'd learned anything from what had happened. I replied, 'yes dad. People in glass houses shouldn't throw Stones.'