The Sick Dance

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.

 

We'll see how this goes. I don't have high hopes for this thread, but it might be one of those with few posts but a couple of excellent stories. For example, did you ever use somebody's hairbrush only to find out that it was previously used to convince some stranger he was anally penetrated?

 

I think my last one was in middle school. Wait, this is about sick dances, not kisses?

Oh well. It was the end of the school year and out of about 30+ kids, there were only a few left that day. Everyone had gone home except the lowest grade students and the teachers. My buddy had waited to the last minute to clean out his locker, and came across a small Tupperware container he had left in there for several months. It was some sort of creamy Italian dish, and being the immature yet curious idiots we were, we decided to go in the bathroom and open it rather than just throwing it out.

Now, I've always had a pretty strong stomach, and I've come across some nasty sights and smells, but this...I have never smelled anything nearly so foul and rancid in my entire life as I did that day. The instant he cracked the lid, from 10 feet away I could almost feel it permeating the air, so strong it was almost as tangible as a flying brick wall. I gagged, hacked, and choked my way out of that bathroom and sprinted outside like Hell itself was on my heels (which might have been less traumatic). Only when I could actually breathe again did I do the sick dance. It was closer to the "OOH damn you got me dude" dance you see at the moment of revelation on a Punk'd-style show, but it was a dance and I was feeling sick.

I did it again five minutes later. He had come running out with me, and after getting our nerves up we walked back in. Bad idea - the smell had filled half the building, and took a few days to air out completely.

(Sorry if this isn't all that exciting to everyone else. I've never really had the urge to play Tickle the Rabbit Nose with another dude and a hairbrush. )

 

Few days ago I was sucking on the end of my pen (as is my wont) it tasted funny. It was about this time I realised it wasn't my pen and the prior owned was also a pen chewer. This was unpleasant.

 

The first law firm I worked at threw a massive client Christmas party every year. They'd hire out a local hall and pack several hundred people in. They didn't hold it anywhere fancier as they invariable dissolved into binge drinking sessions once the more uptight clients left. They were so classy that one year a group of people (clients and staff) were sitting around talking and the receptionist casually leaned over, puked her guts up into a bin and carried on with her conversation... and no one blinked.

As one of the four clerks, our duties were to make sure the alcohol was plentiful and continuously pouring - whatever it took. We were also clean up crew the next day, in varying states of hungover-ness depending on how late it had gotten and where we'd rolled on to. And the place was always a bomb site. The toilets often looked like a vomitorium.

One year we wandered in and started work. Since it was late November, and that's Summer weather down here, the place was rank, hot and humid. Our maintenance guy poured us all some non-alcoholics drinks (orange juice, coke and so on), so we took a break. After a mouthful or two, it was tasting pretty strange and I noticed we were all looking at each other with the same expression. Then one of the guys found a cigarette butt in his drink. We all quickly came the same realisation that the maintenance guy, who was a little 'special', had taken glasses from the dirty pile and they all had various nasty stuff in them.

Luckily we hadn't cleaned the toilets yet, as the four of us bolted there before we heaved up our already churning guts.

 

That's hard to top, both in the yuck and hilarity factor.

I was 10 or 11, and walked into my bathroom. I was wearing a collared shirt, and as I opened the door, a cockroach fell / jumped onto the back of neck. When I felt all those legs squiggling between my neck and the collar, I started that "Ahh! Get it off, get it off dance!" I should have just reached up and smashed it, but my writhing around just made it worse. It went down my back, and since my shirt was tucked in, it just got worse.

I finally was able to get out of my clothes. I had been screaming and was all sweaty at this point, and my mom walked in to see what was up. I was still kind of doing that icky dance in my underwear when she walked in. Of course, both my older sisters came to see what was up, too. To this day, every few years, one of my sisters will wrap up a rubber cockroach in a box as a Christmas present. I hate roaches.

 

I've done the whole "period blood on my hands" thing. It came as a surprise to both of us, and the only reason I halfway kept it together is that she was seriously freaking out.

 

A few years back, we had a German Shepard who was 1 year old when we got him. Little did we know the dog had serious anxiety issues that manifested in explosive pooping. By that I mean, extremely loose but discharged with the force of a fire hose. One Saturday afternoon, I turned from the kitchen to the living room (where, at the time, we had cream-colored carpeting) to see a brown "pond" in the middle of the room. Seriously, 3'x4' and it was spreading as the carpet absorbed it. I didn't even know where to begin. It was around 4pm...on a weekend...do carpet cleaners make emergency calls? And if they do, this is going to cost a fortune, isn't it? Answer to both questions: yes. The only thing that could have made it worse was if he had walked through it and tracked it everywhere else, but luckily, I got him in the yard before he could.

Worst still was on a vacation in No. Carolina. Hurricane Bob was roaring up the coast, and although it was 100 miles off shore, the waves and undertow were substantial. Another beach-goer threw caution to the wind and went swimming anyway, and got caught in the undertow and was pulled out to sea, and search and rescue attempts failed. That was on Saturday. Monday, we saw his body when it washed up on shore. That image that is permanently burned in my mental files and I still get queasy just thinking about it. Remember in Jaws when the head pops out from the hole in the hull in the sunken boat? Yeah, not even close.

 

A few months ago when I was still caging the pup I left him for a few too many hours.

I entered a pitch black house and was punched in the face by the smell of dog diarrhea. Dog diarrhea that had been sitting for awhile.

He was whining and crying and scratching at the cage and I felt terrible for leaving him for too long so I ran over to the cage without thinking and...

released a full fledged shit tornado on my living room and kitchen.

As he romped around and jumped on me I realized the mistake I'd made. Immediately ran him outside but the damage was done.

I spent the next four hours bathing him, scrubbing carpet/floors, and fight down the urge to vomit. If it happens again I'll burn down the house rather than attempt to clean it.

 

For example, when I was in my mid-teens and hanging out with my friend who was kind of skanky and I went to play with her blush brush and she said "I....wouldn't touch that..."

Turns out it was her mid-teens version of a dildo.

Oh, and there was the time when I was in a, let's say, "rustic" house on this island I used to go to each summer in Nova Scotia. I was almost asleep when I felt a spider start crawling across my mouth. It wasn't like I could scream or anything, because then it would fall in. And it wasn't one of those small quick-moving spiders, but big enough to be a slow, lumbering spider and it was taking his sweet ass time. I was too terrified to move so I was lying there freaking the fuck out as this spider crawled across my face. As soon as it got off I jumped out of bed and couldn't stop doing the sick dance. Guhhhh. I can still feel it years later.

 

This gave me an idea for a sex move:

The Joker:

Fuck a girl on her period, then, when your dick is sufficiently covered in blood, pull it out, and slap it around her mouth a few times, smearing the blood thus giving her a large red "joker smile"

 

When I was 11 I slept over my friends house. We were lying in our sleeping bags in his room, checking out his Black Sabbath black light posters, when he sneezed and blew his nose into a tissue. As I was nearest the bathroom, he handed the tissue to me to throw in the wastebasket.

My finger touched his booger.

I barfed all over the floor of his room.

I HATE boogers.

I had almost forgotten about the time i hired a carpet cleaning service to clean my mother's living room after she fell, then pissed her shit herself while she lay there. No, the smell never truly comes out. And no, she wasn't 80, or 70, or incapacitated, or drunk. Just a useless sack of . . . . .

I've said enough

 

A year or two ago I was in Russia, and some friends that had been backpacking for 4 years or so joined us in our hostel. (PS - Cuba Hostel - never, ever, go there, unless you like drunk Russian girls trying to glass your friends at 6am). It's fair to say they had gone a little bit native during there time away. Anyway, they were sharing a 2 bunk bed dorm, they both picked up girls, and fucked them in their respective bunks. The next morning, Dan tosses something from the top bunk down to Ben, and asks him to throw it in the bin. The something turns out to be his used condom.

...

I guess it's good he was safe?

 

There's actually one called "The Clown", where you pull a girl's tampon out by the string with your teeth. Then you shake your head back and forth, leaving you with rosy red cheeks.

The more you know.

 

http://www.theidiotboard.com/messageboard/viewtopic.php?f=1&p=110349#p110349 <~ This.


The first time I saw the pictures, I almost vomited.

 

I drank dip spit.

Without going into a detailed explanation, it was a dorm room filled with people drinking the exact same bottles and I chose poorly.

The only reason I didn't throw up and make a scene was because I wanted to fuck a girl that was there. I didn't end up fucking her and I blame Skoal Mint.

 

I was at my parents home over spring break and right before I was about to head out I saw this huge spider crawling across the kitchen floor. It resembled a black widow and there was no way in hell I was going to let that thing live. I promptly stomped it and immediately afterward a whole swarm of dots spread from under my shoe. I at first thought they were a bunch of ants that must have been attacking the spider, but nope, they were hundreds of fucking spider babies. I tried to get a piece of wet paper to nab as many as I could but I am pretty sure plenty escaped. The one time I wish I had a can of RAID. I did the gross dance when I tossed my shoe outside when I felt a few crawling up my leg.

 

I ate half of a pint of moldy blueberries. I absentmindedly put them in a bowl of milk and noshed. It wasn't until after I finished most of it that my roommate at the time asked me what I was eating.

"Blueberries, why?"
"The ones from the back of the fridge?"
"Yeah..."
"Those are really, really old and moldy."

I started gagging.