Someone important once said: Writing about comedy is like square-dancing about acupuncture. Or they should have. And now, for all intents and purposes, it has been said. And not a moment too soon, because PW rock’s its first, and possibly last, annual Humor Issue this week and boy are my arms tired! Props for the 411 on local laugh shacks and the aspiring showbiz Sheckys that fill them with hot air, laughing gas and two-drink-minimum guffaws. Which reminds us, did you ever hear the one about the lollipop and the jump rope? Skip it, it sucks. [insert rimshot here] Yeah, we got a million of ’em — literally. After all, if there’s a million stories in the naked city, there’s at least a million jokes. Hell, my knuckles get sore just thinking about doling out all those punchlines. Where am I going with this? I thought you knew. Well, you’ve been a dynamite audience, ladies and germs — and I’m not just saying that. OK, maybe I am. Just to sum up: Groucho glasses on the cover of the Humor Issue = Overplayed Comedy Signifier + Overstating The Obvious. WINNER: City Paper