At Leeds festival there was loads of 'Warchild' fliers on the floor with a pic of the Feeder bloke looking sad on them. I tore his head off and dropped it down the toilet, and it landed FACE UP. So amongst all the poo, wee, tissues, girl nappies etc, there was this little face peeping up.
At school, the one who brought loads of stationary used to give us cellotape. So we'd make little labels and stick them on all the big ard chavs / chav shaggers.
Seeing a yard of children erupt into laughter as one of the most popular boys in the building strolls across the yard, wielding a white label on his back reading:
"Concentrate on my nipples, then caress my penis slowly, please. xx."
was almost as funny as seeing Paul Daniels talk about the Brasseye elephant who's trunks were up her arse.