I want to pull them on and admire the blingy back pockets that only draw attention to that flattened place where I sit and write. I want to wear them to my favorite haunts...the grocery store, Target or the gas station. I want to sparkle...just a bit.
It is July, a few summers back, at Paramount's Kings Dominion theme park near Richmond, Va. And as Patrick the Starfish, SpongeBob SquarePants' best cartoon friend, I am the goofy hero of the afternoon.
The way Dash declares his love for them big-bodied Benzes to Obama's admission that he snorted a little blow: it's being open, unapologetically, which is something neither the focus-grouped Clinton nor the liver-spotted McCain could do.