You drink your OJ out of a King Kong glass from Burger King.
Your OJ is actually Tang.
You still think of the other OJ when you hear the name, “Hertz.”
“The Juice is loose” doesn’t sound frightening or nefarious to you.
You decorate your laptop case with Wacky Packages stickers.
You carry a Garbage Pail Kids card in your wallet.
You believe everything Ron Popeil says.
You think Chevy Chase really does look like Gerald Ford. At least when he’s falling down.
You’d fight Ralph Macchio to get a shot at Ali.
You’d fight Ali to get a shot at working with Arnold … um, Mr. Miyagi.
You can’t decide between Bob Hartley and Dick Loudon.
You recognize that Garfield started life as Carlton the Doorman.
The Exorcist makes you physically ill, but you can’t turn away.
You serve food to your family in a Big Trak Transporter.
You can program in Basic.
You can make eye contact.
You hate shag carpet but would love to see it at least one more time.
The smell of Bengay makes you homesick.
You fondly remember how soundly the old Vicks 44 made you sleep.
You crave TV-dinner meatloaf at least once a year.
You know that Tom Cruise still looks like Tom Cruise.
You know that Tom Cruise knows Faust.
Your joystick thumb still flares up when the weather turns wet or cold.
You’d do just about anything to taste a Scooby Snack.
You spend your lunch break playing with Colorforms.
There are leg men. There are butt men. There are boob men. You are a “big hair” man.
Your Pet Rock is still alive.
You’ve tried to re-create at least three skits from “Love American Style.”
You’ve tried milk and Pepsi.
You know Pepsi and fireworks are bad for your hair.
You love to stand in the backseat of your car while it’s moving.
You use your bicycle helmet as a hanging planter.
In the summer, you play outside until your wife comes to find you.
You lobby for an afternoon recess at work.
You smoke candy cigarettes.
You get misty-eyed when Tiffany starts crooning about what “Could’ve Been.”
You carry a thermos of hot water with you all winter long in case you come across a metal flagpole.
You hate the Cubs and Red Sox because they’re supposed to break your heart.
You periodically send your wife a simple letter: “Do you like me? (circle one) YES or NO”
Your wife circles “or”.
You wonder where all the companies who were Beatrice have run off to.
You’ve staked out a Dunkin’ Donuts all night in the hopes of seeing the “Time to Make the Donuts” guy meet himself.
You’re starting to think Clara Peller would have been a fun lunch companion.
You can do the “Super Bowl Shuffle.”
You can remember when “air conditioning” meant blowing into a cup of ice on a hot day.
You have a newspaper subscription.
You can write in cursive.
Somewhere in your house, you have a TV that’s thicker than the thickest book in your house.
You have books in your house.
You believe, in your heart, that Han Solo is still alive.
You miss shopping at IGA.
You STILL shop at IGA.
You burn glittery glass Christmas candles from your sixth-grade fundraiser during the holidays.
You know that Ding Dongs are health food because the have a protective waxy coating.
You still play the “Top 9 at 9” cassette tape you recorded from the local radio station countdown in 1983.
You have learned to repair your VHS VCR so you can watch Animal House whenever you want.
You have a Betamax machine set aside, just in case.
You have two cases of Aqua Net hidden in your bathroom closet in case big hair comes back. And in case your hair comes back.
At least half your dishes are left over from a 1980s grocery store promotion.
You’re leery of public restrooms because entering one might lead to a swirlee.
You can remember a world when Dennis Franz’s butt cheeks were not in the public domain.
You remember a time when “Moonlighting” meant falling in love with Cybill Shepherd instead of falling asleep at your day job.
You’re still disappointed in Reese’s Pieces.
You know where you were when The New Coke was announced.
You do the “Dance of Joy” when you’re happy.
You still wonder who shot J.R. because the answer was so unremarkable and unsatisfying.
You wear your Skylab helmet whenever there might be trouble.
You hold Friday nights open in case Friday Night Videos comes back.
You often ponder how Mel Mounds became God.
You wonder why there are no Colorforms sets to help you with your day job.
When you see Shaun Cassidy’s name in movie credits, you remember how dreamy he used to be.
You still consult your mood ring before making big decisions.
You know that the correct serving size for any sort of bubble gum is one full pack.
Every once in awhile, you’ll find a Nerd stuck between your teeth even though you haven’t eaten that candy since 1991.
In quiet moments, you admit to yourself that you still eat Nerds for lunch every third Friday. Alone. At your desk.
If you had hair, you would part it on the side or straight down the middle.
You read Mad Magazine for the articles.
Salem’s Lot taught you that vampires don’t sparkle … they scratch at your freaking window and then float into your bedroom to drain your blood because they’re your dead brother.
You realize Nike stole their Swoosh from the Starsky and Hutch Gran Torino.
Who’s the Boss? It was always Sam.
Even when you paint by numbers, your masterpiece looks like a Kindergarten finger painting.
You tell people you can’t work out because you can’t find Spandex outfits anymore.
You had children so you don’t have to get up to change the channel.
You had children so you would always have good television reception, even when the antenna broke off.
Your dad still calls you, “boy,” and you don’t hate it.
You lament the comedy opportunities lost in the demise of the venerable “floppy disk.”
When you want to know if a bottle of pop is still good, you shake it up and watch it fizz (or not).
You think there aren’t enough fan theories about Three’s Company.
You’ve done shots of Karo Syrup. Sometimes, on dark and lonely nights, you still do.
You know what a dimmer switch is.
You consider a refrigerator to be “deluxe” if it come with ice cube trays.
Each fall, you get a new ID picture for work and add the old one to the school bus picture frame your mom started when you were in Kindergarten. Forty years and counting!
You still wear your high school class ring on special occasions.
You consider every day you wake up to be a special occasion.
You make that “ch-ch-ch-ch” sound from the Six Million Dollar Man whenever you lift something heavy.
You just can’t get into these new music groups like Hootie and the Blowfish, The Wallflowers, and Soundgarden.
You just can’t get into these new shows like Friends, E.R., and Seinfeld.
You wake up early on Saturday mornings and cry in your Sugar Pops when you can’t find any cartoons to watch.
