Mar
Posted on 15th March 2012
This past Monday, I participated in another Uptown Showdown, a debate series put on by the classy people at Symphony Space (The word symphony is right there in the name. Instant class. Also, there were snacks in the dressing room. Class). The topic this time around was “Fashion v. Comfort”. As you can probably imagine, I was on the fashion team along with the extremely fashionable Elna Baker and Kevin Townley. On the comfort team were those bastards Tom Shillue, Michael Ian Black, and Tom Cavanagh, who it turns out is Canadian. The show was really fun and if you ask me it was totally a tie but then Tom Cavanagh took his shirt off and everyone was all like “Oh, look, the guy from the hit TV series ‘Ed’ took his shirt off!” and then those bastards won. Whatever.
After the debate part of things, Michael (Ian Black) read briefly from his sweet new book that you should totally buy right here unless you’re some kind of a-hole (and speaking of which, Amazon is offering a sweet deal if you buy my book and Michael’s book together. We are passing the savings on to you because we are both really rich and famous and don’t give a shit about money because we already have so much of it it’s more of a burden than anything else by now). Then Michael signed some books and a lot of chicks wanted to have sex with me.
As for my part of the debate, I read this thing I wrote about fashion earlier that day while I was riding the bus all by myself. You can read the whole thing below. I hope you enjoy it so much:
FASHION VS. COMFORT BY ME, DAVE HILL
Fashion- will we ever really understand it? Probably not. But one thing I can tell you for sure is that nine times out of ten, it’s totally better to embrace fashion and look as incredible as possible rather than just wear whatever crappy looking crap you feel like wearing at the time. And as for that one time out of ten in the scenario I just mentioned, it is reserved specifically and only for supermodel Giselle Bundchen, who could probably just poke a few holes in a garbage bag, put it on, and still look really great and you can ask anyone. Also, Giselle Bundchen had sex with football’s Tom Brady.
Anyway, In simpler times, like in old timey movies and photographs, for example, people would dress up for dinner, routine court appearances, and even when they flew on airplanes. I was not alive during this time but it is my understanding that the sex was incredible. Nowadays, people get on airplanes wearing flip flops, sweat pants, and novelty T-shirts from the popular Ron Jon surf shop as if they are about to take out the goddamn garbage or something. And I can tell you from firsthand experience that most of those people are lucky if they even get to second base during the flight or even during a quote unquote “Denver layover” despite its sexy implications.
As for me, recently, I boarded a commercial flight from LaGuardia airport here in town to the Canton Akron airport and had intercourse with half the people in coach and an entire family in business class without even really trying. Unsatiated, I then boarded a flight bound for Baltimore, during which I banged four flight attendants, fingered three first class passengers, and got a handjob from one member of the ground crew who wasn’t exactly crazy about rules. It should be noted that I did the exact same thing on the return flight from Baltimore to Akron 45 minutes later, albeit with mostly different people. The reason for everything I just mentioned is simple- the outfit I had on at the time was really, really great. I wore a three-piece suit with matching tie and handkerchief and not only did I fucking own Cinnabon before boarding the plane in all three cities, but once we got up to 40,000 feet I was everyone’s clear choice for most bangable fresh-faced boy-next-door type in coach and the TSA couldn’t say shit about it. I do not attribute any of this to my offbeat good looks, my ability to make light chitchat with just about anybody, or the fact that I smell incredible pretty much all of the time. It’s simply because- unlike everyone else on the plane- I somehow managed put out a little effort when it came time to get put some goddamn clothes on. My fellow passengers appreciated that, and- next thing I knew- I was making sweet, sweet love to a mother of three and her cousin Donna in the airplane restroom for like twenty minutes even though there was a line and the flight attendant with the mustache was kind of being a dick about it.
I realize it is at this point that you are thinking to yourselves, “But Dave, it’s so uncomfortable to get dressed up in fancy outfits all the time. It’s much easier and more comfortable to simply walk around in sweatpants or Jeggings all day and embrace the fact that we will all be dead soon.” And to that I say, “Pull yourself together, you selfish prick. Of course it’s more comfortable to dress like shit. But while you’re walking around in your coffee and urine-stained sweatpants and free promotional Newport Lights T-shirt, the rest of us are forced to look at you and make peace with the fact that there is just one thin layer of breathable cotton between your asshole and the rest of us and there’s nothing anyone can do about it so we’re all screwed basically.”
Tonight I stand before you a man of arts and letters and also with just slightly above average external male genitalia. The waistband of my pants is too tight, my tie is choking me, and I have draped my torso in so many layers of tactile and inviting fabric that I am in grave danger of having a seizure or at the very least pulling my groin at any moment. The important thing to remember, however, is I did it all for you, the ridiculously attractive and hopefully open-minded people I see sitting before me here tonight. I am in a great deal of pain, but if it means giving all of you a little eye candy for a few hours I’m happy to suffer through it.
To my right, sit my debate team partners, who are also looking seriously incredible and making a similar sacrifice just for you. To my left, sit three selfish bastards, two of whom you no doubt remember from the hit TV series “Ed”, all of whom are basically telling everyone here tonight to go fuck themselves by their manner of dress and also the suggestion that they intend to continue looking like hell for at least the foreseeable future. Personally, I think all you sexy, sexy people in the audience here tonight deserve better. Also, I would like to have intercourse with you, you know, if you want. Thank you.
Still street,
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