I knew a guy who had an ice bell mounted on his rack. Didn't play it. Used it for an ashtray. I told him if he wasn't going to use that thing properly, then give it to me and I'll play it and I don't even like ice bells. He then proceeded to try to sell it to me. What kind of douche bag wants money for an old dusty oxidized ice bell full of cig tar stains and a soggy blend of beer flavored cig ashes? The grand nozzle of douche bags, that's what kind. Still shaking my head over that one.
Heh, when I was maybe 16 my sister started freaking about something and yelling for me.
She was painting her nails in my room and shaking the nail bottle when it spilled all over my white drums.
While she was losing her mind thinking I would kill her for spilling nail polish on my drums, I just wiped it off and shrugged and said "don't do that."