Hoodies are an essential layer in the arsenal against the fucking weather here. You can have my hoodies when you pry them from my cold (very, very, terribly cold), dead hands.
OK, exceptions for you and the Unabomber, but that’s it.
Guess what’s hanging up with my coat because I wore it into work this morning because it’s fucking gross out!
A sombrero?
A hazmat suit? (How gross are we talking about?)