What happened to the embroidered pants, the pants of terror, the cause of great shame?
I will let you in on an little secret. I actually…hee. Okay, I actually do not hate the pants. I mean, yes, they’re very different and all, but if anyone can pull them off, it’s Dukay. He’s just too damn cute. So, the pants are safe for now. But if he irritates me, I make no promises, because he loves those pants probably a little too much to be healthy. Do you talk like you write? I talk exactly like I write. Which is to say, I talk a lot. Seriously, you would really like for me to shut up now. No really. And, more more more, just like Billy Idol says: Did you ever get into trouble as a kid? Listen, I am, and have always been, a tremendous dork. I was the teacher’s pet who cried too easily, who wore her hair in the perfectly obnoxious little braids, the whole fucking deal. So I didn’t get into too much trouble, unless it somehow involved, say, my innate clumsiness. As a little kid, the worst trouble I ever got into came from the time I tried to sit on my grandmother’s coffee table.
