As far as I’m concerned Sunday is the worst day of the year: no pants subway ride day. It’s the day when thousands of people ride the filthy, disgusting, New York subway system in their underwear. It all started 10 years ago when the performance art collective improv everywhere came up with the idea of having one day a year when everyone goes sans culotte. It’s something or other about defying norms of behavior or some such performance art nonsense. “You get to see hot chicks in their panties, right? What could be wrong with that?” The answer is that 95% of the people who get on the train pantless is no one you’d ever want to see naked. Overweight hipsters, boney/hairy English majors, and pasty mustachioed “artists” are the norm. It’s not fair to subject the 7 million people who ride the New York MTA everyday to that. We already have to deal with perverts masturbating to pictures of penguins and subway performers singing Lionel Ritchie. So, Sunday I’m going to carry around some spare pants and the first person I see with their ass hanging out is getting forced to wear them. And a wedgie. A big one.