Bloody cheek. It's not every day a com moner is graced with the personage of a card-carry ing, blue-blooded, bone headed duchess. But Sarah Ferguson irritably dragged her hips into the Javits Center yesterday at the crack of 8:30, and proceeded to whine, kvetch and play the victim in a British accent as impenetrable as Scotland Yard. And, judging from the crowd she attracted, which coated the convention center like a lover's saliva on Fergie's well-traveled toes, the world's greediest, tackiest and brokest royal is quickly accomplishing a feat that has eluded her back home in England, where the weary...