It's a Sign

Over the years I had the opportunity to live in many different places and observe lots of things that were tragic and/or funny. Some of them were forgotten very quickly because ... one had to be there, and so telling about it wouldn't really work.

Every now and then, though, one comes across the perfect joke. I think this happens when a few criteria are met:

1) Unintentional humour;

2) Level of absurdity previously unencountered;

3) Contrast which highlights the ridiculousness of something;

4) No need for explanation;

5) Explaining it till the joke is no longer funny, but so not funny that it becomes hilarious;

6) I'm sure there was a sixth item but I forgot what it was now.

The example below (photo taken this afternoon on my way back from the cinema, where I saw Winter's Bone, a good but rather grim story about a girl who...uh...ok, maybe I'll talk about it in another entry-- back to the task at hand--) fulfills all but #5-- unless... no, never mind.

So yeah! Here's why (I'm only explaining #3 because the rest is obvious...):

This store is in a v posh area of town, near the Canadian Embassy, the Champs Élysées etc, and is off Montaigne avenue, the one where all the designer shops are. How wonderful! All these posh people go in Max Mara and Prada, Chanel and Louis Vuitton, then into Fanny Saga! Too Funny.

Sometimes I really like the rich for their seemingly inexhaustible ability to make themselves look foolish without even noticing it.