Friday, August 29, 2008

Win, Place, or Show: Fart, Fall, Or Comb-Over

Win, Place, Or Show: Fart, Fall, or Comb-Over

I don't know about you, but I sure could use a good laugh these days. Amid all the current political drama (Did Hillary endorse Obama ... enough?) and the daily economic woes we all face (fuck over-draft fees!), more and more frequently I find myself looking for the humor in life (beyond Heidi Montag's music videos).

So, in our first installment of Win, Place, or Show, we here at PianoFight offer you three things that are always guaranteed a good laugh. Now, you may not find one as funny as the other so that's why we've used the time honored rating system of Win, Place, or Show. This is how it works: we offer three items or subjects to be rated, give a description of the three and then place them in the appropriate category . It's just that easy! So, without further ado, here we go.

Show: The Comb-Over - Have you ever seen someone with a comb-over and NOT laughed? To see the glare of a sweaty bald head shine through a strategically placed thin layer of hair always get a good chuckle out of me. Recognize this guy?

Place: The Fall - The Greman's call it Schadenfreude [Shad-n-froi-dah], the satisfaction or pleasure felt at someone else's misfortune. Now, I'm not talking about watching a retarded blind old lady fall out of her wheelchair in the middle of the crosswalk of as busy city street on a rainy day. Wait, that can be funny over time, but I'm talking about the super cool guy walking down the street in his Armani suit and dark Prada sunglasses that misjudged the height of the curb and fell flat on his ridiculously tanned face. The only thing that could make that funnier is if that guy had a comb-over (then farted while he was lying teary-eyed and helpless on the ground).

Win: The Fart - Always funny! For me, there is no circumstance in which a fart is not funny. I remember sitting in church when I was a kid and being overwhelmed by the raunchiest, eye tearing stench you could imagine. When I came to, and the sting in my eyes subsided, I looked around me to see who the perpetrator was. I was sure it was that guy in the Armani suit with the comb-over donning that post-flatulence smile reserved only for those times when you know you let out a foul smelling, silent-but-deadly bomb. Negative. To my amazement that guy was nowhere to be found. Instead I found that I was surrounded by a league of teary eyed, silver haired old ladies in flowered hats acting like they were paying attention to the service...including my own grandmother. Now, I never found out who the culprit was, because as you know little old ladies hide their farts better than anyone, but it goes to show you that no matter the circumstance a well placed fart is always good for a laugh.

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