As the Red Coats would say, "Who would wear those bloody pants?"

I wear red sweatpants. Often. Unabashed.

Seriously red, seriously ugly, and seriously comfortable. They're like Uggs, only affordable.

Let me break down for you. These aren't just any old sweatpants, these pants have a story. One Halloween I said to myself, what's the grossest, easiest costume I can come up with that people won't understand if I'm dressed up or really taking matching to another level.

So, I decided I would be a used tampon. Screw it, we're all adults. Looking back, probably not the tasteful costume I ever came up with, but I wasn't trick-or-treating with my nephews ("Your kids are so cute, but what are you dressed up as??" Oh, I'm a grown-up used tampon. I fit in the largest of vaginas.)

Finding a red sweatshirt wasn't a problem, I got one that I keep locked away that I wear once a year on Christmas. The hard part of this costume was finding the same red sweatpants I love and adore today. I went to all sorts of sporting goods places to no avail. "What kind of self-respecting sporting good store doesn't carry red sweatpants?!" I yelled. Turns out, every one actually has respect for themselves and doesn't carry the most noticable of sweatpants.

Finally, I said to myself, "Who wears red sweatpants?" Santa Clause, homeless people, the pope. Then, I ask, "Where do homeless people shop?" Trashcans, Wal-Mart, any place that has condiments on the counter that they can steal.

I went to Wal-Mart and I see the pants in the corner of my eye glaring through a sea of trash: some kid is crying, some old man looking at bra's and panties in the women's section, some really old guy is trying to put a smiley sticker on me. I walk over and there they were in all their majesty. A white string and everything.

Suddenly, the terrible idea of going through with this stupid, stupid, tasteless costume, subsided. The stars aligned. "All this awesome and still only three bucks?" I said. I bought them immediately. The best thing is that the cashier didn't give me the awkward "you're-buying-this?" look because she's so accustomed of ugly things going over her little scanner.

I wore them and only two people found the costume funny. The others, didn't want to know me. I wasn't the same god-fearing Justin Townsend they remembered from high school. I changed. (Picture: notice the x-mas sweater, then the white string to tighten my red pants.)

Nowadays, I wear these Santa-pants everywhere. They sufficiently succeed in making me look like one of two people I scarily admire: gym teachers and homeless people (which are a whistle away from being the same person, if you think about it).

Oh, and the classic, person-that-just-rolled-out-of-bed-with-a-hangover-trying-to-get-to-work.

Personality trait that failed me once again:
Being caught picking my nose. We all do it, not as many do it as anti-covertly as me.

Random stuff I learned that you didn't:
1. Nothing quite makes me laugh like infomercials for Snuggies and Hip Hop Abs. If you ever catch me watching these or asking to, just consider it like any other friend asking to watch George Carlin or that no talent ass-clown Dane Cook.
2. Why Dunkin Donuts puts jimmies on absolutely everything is beyond me. Do they think its easy driving, texting, and trying to keep these virtually tasteless yet colorful irritants from getting into every tiny crevise in my car?
3. I don't love my car that much. I just needed something stupid to write about the otehr day.
4. Spelling mistakes don't bother me, but when a person doesn't know the first president of the greatest nation I get ripping mad and ashamed.
5. Turns out I'm not the only one confused by your stupid shoes. MSN.com is apparently asking the same questions.