So it's my cousin's birthday and, being born in the 80's, he decides to have an 80's-themed party at his house. I invite a buddy, and on the afternoon of the party we head to the second-hand clothing store to pick out some truly awful 80's attire. My goal is to be as neon as possible. We head back to my place for pre-drinks, then throw on our costumes for one last look in the mirror. As it's winter, I wear a blinding bright, straight-out-of-an-80's-ski-movie winter jacket. I've acheived my goal, and look proudly in the mirror as I straighten the collar, pull the jacket tight and put my hands comfortably in its oversized pockets... ...and before I can finish saying "what the fuck is this crusty, crumpled thing in the pocket?", I pull out a used tissue, presumambly from the 80's. I freak the fuck out like my sister scared of a spider, run to the bathroom screaming "Ohymyfuckinggod!" over and over, and try not to puke as I furiously scrub my hand. The party was fun though. I totally made out with one of my cousin's friends. FOCUS: Ever been grossed out enough to do the sick-dance? Do tell.