The hardest you've ever laughed in your life

In My Humble Opinion
1

I was looking back at the times in my life when I have loudly, uncontrollably, bladder-releasingly, thought-I might-die laughed. Most have to do with seeing other people unexpectedly fall down. I even start to smile and laugh just thinking of these moments.

One instance that comes to mind was when my buddy lit a fart at a Thanksgiving party. It was the first and last time I have seen this performed and I’m laughing now just picturing it in my head. The position he had to get into, the look on his face when it actually worked, the “whoosh” sound as the gas ignited, the tongue of flame that quickly appeared above the seat of his jeans…I couldn’t regain my composure for at least 20 minutes afterwards and even then I would launch into hysterics every time I thought about it for the next few days.

Anyway else care to share…

2

The Year: 1982.

The Place: An advertising agency on the Upper East Side.

My Job: Office manager.

I was typing up a list of utility companies one of our clients worked with. I came to a Texas company called “El Paso Gas.” I fell out of my chair like I’d been poleaxed. I was laughing so hard that I was curled up in a ball under my desk, unable to inhale or tell anyone what was wrong (I just kept pointing helplessly to the paper I was typing). After exhaling for, like, five minutes, I made one of those awful inhale noises that sounds like the Titanic finally going under.

Yep, I think that was my hardest laugh. Oh, there was the time I saw Ukulele Ike in a porkpie hat and polka-dot vest, too . . .

3

During my junior year in college I lived in a fraternity house with a dozen other swine…er, I mean, guys. Several of them could always be counted on for having extremely potent smoke, and what we lovingly called “Polio Pot” (one hit and you’re paralyzed for the rest of the evening) plays a role in this story.

Several of our other house mates were serious gym rats, and one in particular, John, was a nationally ranked body builder even though he was only about 5’5" tall. One evening, after smoking way too much of this coma-inducing stuff, a few of us were watching cartoons on the TV in the main living room. On comes a Foghorn Leghorn cartoon with the ChickenHawk as the special guest star. You remember him, right? Little runt of a guy who walked around with his chest all puffed out saying “I’m a ChickenHawk and I chase chickens.” Well, as we sit here watching this and enjoying the hell out of ourselves, out of the bathroom and across the room strides John in one of his tiny posing suits. I looked at him, looked at the ChickenHawk, and said to the assembled room “I’m a ChickenHawk, and I chase chickens,” in the most deadpan voice I could muster.

In retrospect it really wasn’t that funny, but at the time I and the assembled crowd thought it was, without a doubt, the very epitome of wit. It was one of those situations where it just fed on itself and we all laughed ourselves into total oblivion. One of the crowd actually had to go to the bathroom and throw up he was laughing so hard. My sides hurt for days afterwards and to this day I can’t see a ChickenHawk cartoon without smiling.

4

I had the opportunity to see George Carlin in Vegas a few months ago. For 90 minutes straight I had tears rolling down my face, a sore throat and couldn’t even sit up. For hours after that my sides hurt and I would burst into giggles every few minutes. That man is a stand-up wizard.

5

My business partner and I were returning from a grueling trip, and had wearily pulled into a rest stop for a snack.

It was late at night, and everyone there was a tired driver. My friend got on line to buy an ice cream sundae, while I waited nearby. A pimply faced teenager was scooping the ice cream.

My friend gets to the front of the line. About five weary people are behind him, looking as if they will fall asleep before they get their ice cream.

He orders his sundae. The kid makes it.

The kid then holds up the cup of ice cream, and asks -

“Nuts?”

Friend looks over at me, looks back at the kid, and says, “Why, yes! I am!” And then started jumping up and down, screaming, waving his arms, and making faces at the other people on line. The kid stared dumbly, still holding the cup of ice cream. The other folks on line began to back away slowly…

We nearly got into three accidents laughing about this as we drove home.

6

Playing pictionary with the family (back in the 80’s) I had to draw the word ‘mutiny’. dfrew a litle boat, with a stick figure captain facing the stern with a crew of three, all flipping him off. My brother got it as soon as he saw the fingers. Laughed so hard I blacked out for a second. Oops.And this without and chemical encouragement.

7

I may have related this once before, but I shall do so again.

This was about 5 years ago. I had a roommate, who was also my best bud, named Mike. His girlfriend at the time was Abby (Abby is now married to another good friend of mine, but that’s another story).
Anyway, Mike, Abby and I went out for Chinese food, after which we thought we’d just go back to the apartment and hang out, maybe watch a movie. We were all good friends and this was a frequent pastime.
This night, however, Mike started complaining of an overwhelming stomach cramp. At first it was merely annoying, then it grew uncomfortable, until it was just painful. There’s Mike laying out on a sofa accross the room, moaning, while Abby and I are sitting on the other sofa worried to hell that Mike is dying. I finally told him that if he didn’t feel any better in the next half an hour I was bringing him to the hospital (I thought he had apendicitis).
About ten minutes later, the apartment is kind of hushed. Abby and I are just sort of sitting there, with the TV idling in the background. Mike is still on the sofa off to the side of the room … when all of a sudden …

BBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!

The single longest loudest fart I’ve ever heard eminate from a human being. Of course follwed by, “Ah, that feels much better.”

I literally (not figuratively, literally) hit the floor laughing. Rolled right off the couch, in an absolute laugh fit. Abby is in equal hysterics. And Mike is just relieved that he feels better, watching us fighting for breath as we are convulsing on the floor.

I guess it was the dire mood, and the quiteness of the apartment when that thundering flatulence cracked through the air. But, damn it was funny!

8

What’s still funny to me, though not as funny as it was at the time, is the recollection of my wife’s cousin’s wedding rehearsal dinner. The scene was the theatre of the Vanderbilt Mansion on Fisher Island in Miami – an ultra-exclusive rich-and-famous playground accessible only by ferry or helicopter (and they don’t let just anyone on the ferry). Imagine a 1920’s nightclub cum theatre, with a stage at one end, a large dance floor in front of it, and then tiers of tables rising toward the back of the room, in a very ornate Moorish Spanish style. Set into one wall, alongside the dance floor, was a half-circle booth table with draperies around the opening. In this were ensconced myself on the outside of one end, my fiancee (now wife), her youngest brother and his girlfriend, and at the other end of the half circle, directly opposite me, her other brother – the feckless one of the pair, despite being a couple of years older. We were all drunk, but Feckless Brother well beyond the rest of us – he was peeved about the lack of attractive unattached women present (though being Feckless Brother, he’d probably not have benefitted much if there had been any). We were also provided with the disposable cameras that have become de rigueur for such occasions. The room was very dark, and in a moment of churlishness I raised one of these cameras, called out to Feckless Brother across the table, and snapped a picture, blinding him with the flash. He rubbed his eyes and cursed me with apparent good humor, though the undertone of real annoyance was hard to miss. The rest of us enjoyed a brief chuckle and went on with our conversation. A few minutes later, Feckless Brother calls out to me, and I turn to face him. He snaps a picture with his own camera – which, in his altered condition, he’d turned so that it was pointed toward himself, causing the flash to detonate an inch or so from his already half-blinded eyes. The rest of us eventually calmed down enough that we were allowed to remain on the island, but it took a while.

9

Me and my goofy roomates (5 or 6) were wiling away our time shooting the breeze in the kitchen, snacking on cheese balls and generally hanging out.

Okay, so this event was preceded by a couple of hours of consuming cheap wine and herbage.

At some point ‘the oriental’, and yes, that is what we called her, (hey, we had two Judy’s - it was just easier) begins to play the fool, trying to catch cheese balls in her open mouth. Gary’s throwing them, one side of the room then the other, one after another, and she has yet to catch one.

What she can’t see is that Gary is running out of cheese balls, 4, 3, 2, 1, and then, without missing a beat he started throwing cigarette butts from the nearby ashtray.

Now we were all giggling at these antics initially, once we saw the butt substitution we were laughing uproarously. She still hadn’t caught one in her mouth, but with each throw it got funnier and funnier until I thought we’d die. Eventually
she did catch one, and we exploded. It was too much. I’m laughing now just thinking about it.

For a full month afterwards we were forbidden to speak about it in the house, because it would make us all start laughing till we cried all over again.

Aaaah, higher education, gotta love it.

10

I used to work for the Freer and Sackler Galleries in Washington, DC, part of the Smithsonian. One day, I was sitting around with my bosses, poking through an enormous book of miniature paintings, not doing too much in particular.

I came to one painting in the book, and something just didn’t seem right. Then I noticed the title of the painting, which unfortunately escapes me, but which was very similar to Man Sodomizes A Camel While The Devil Looks On.

Right there in the foreground is a beautifully, intricately rendered camel, looking completely nonplussed. On his hind legs, at the reverse-knees, are affixed a couple of foot-pegs. A nervous, intent-looking man stands on the foot-pegs, his elaborate robes pulled up around his waist, going to town on the camel. If I remember right, he had a couple of hand-holds, too. In the background, his head sticking out from behind a couple of rocks, is The Devil, blood-red, tounge sticking out, laughing.

Well, I just lost it. My bosses were laughing, too. After a while, one of them mentioned that the exhibit was still open, and I could go on up and look at it if I wanted. Shakily, I made it up to the exhibit, quickly walked through until I found the right miniature. Culstered around it were a half dozen old ladies, each with a magnifying glass, clucking and tittering. I lost it again, went outside, and rolled in the grass convulsively for about five minutes.

Afterwards, the guys at work realized that I had developed some strange Pavlovian reaction to the camel-humper. They milked it for months, leaving the book open to that page at my desk, defacing packs of cigarettes and tossing them to me when I wasn’t expecting it, and so forth. Hell, I’m laughing now.

Camel-humper. AAAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

11

Key Players Two college coeds, a 14 year old boy, and a shopping carriage.

My brother, Vince, spent a couple of days with me when I was a junior in college. My friends all adored him, since he was a cute little kid, so one of my friends (Sarah) suggests that we bring him with us on our walk to Mill pond. I objected on the grounds that the last time he was there he dammaged a tree and threw a pen at a swan when he thought it was going to come near us. My objections fall on deaf ears.

As we’re about to cut through the back of a shopping plaza (there’s a paved path and everything) Vince walks over to one of the errant shopping carts and starts pushing it. We tell him to leave it behind, but since he’s bigger than we are, the shopping cart comes along. He promises he won’t “push it in the pond.”

So he pushes it all the way to Mill pond, a good 1/3 of a mile from the shopping plaza. Sarah and I spot a blue heron, and decide to investigate it, and he says he’ll stay where he is. We get him to promise again not to push it into the pond. We pass a group of trees (which blocks him from our sight) when we hear the carriage banging. We yell over to him that he better not be pushing the carriage into the pond. He says he didn’t, yet. The yet worries us, so we go back to where he is.

We’re all sitting on the benches while Sarah and I feed the ducks bread we smuggled out of the dining hall. Vince is rolling the carriage back and forth along the slight incline. Then he lets go of the handle. He screams " I didn’t push it! It rolled!" as it picks up speed and plummets into the pond where it sits in the shallow water, looking like a beached whale. He looks at us like he’s scared we’re going to kill him, and Sarah and I burst out laughing. We stopped laughing long enough to demand that he get the carriage back out or we’ll call my parents. He then took of his shoes, socks, and rolled up his pants, and starts swearing about how cold the water is. By this point Sarah and I are leaning on each other, laughing so hard we can’t breath, tears rolling down our faces.

After he finally drags the thing up the hill we decide it’s time to leave. Every time we run into someone, as he pushes the carriage, now wet and full of water plants, he tells them that “he did a good deed by pulling it out of the pond.” We try to tell him that he can’t tell people that since he pushed it in, but he insists that his part in it getting into the pond doesn’t nullify the “good deed” aspect to pulling it out. We shrugged. The carriage was returned before it’s absence was noted.

12

This isn’t my story, but I laughed my head off just the same.

My friend, John’s, father was a minister in our town when John was in high school. One Christmas, a trucker came to Pastor Frank’s church needing help for something - I don’t remember if he needed money or food but something along those lines anyway. So Pastor Frank, bless his heart, brought the trucker home to their house for a family meal. Pastor Frank did this more than a few times. He’s a nice guy.

So the trucker fellah was by no means an educated man, but he was very appreciative of their hospitality and accepted Pastor Frank’s offer to stay and visit with his family after the meal. John’s family was good friends with the family next door, and they were coming over for a little Christmas get-together to play games and hang out. The mother of the family next door, Mrs. Smith, was a very very prim lady and her older son was good friends with John.

So the plan was to play Pictionary. Pastor Frank divided everyone into teams and eventually it was the trucker’s turn to draw. It was an “Action” card (that’s a clue to the answer, for those who haven’t played Pictionary. His teammates had to guess what he was drawing) so he nodded as he got his idea and started sketching.

It quickly became painfully obvious that he was drawing the torso of a naked woman. Everyone was looking around in embarassment as he was drawing away and Mrs. Smith, who was on Mr. Trucker’s team, dropped her jaw. The trucker had drawn a crude rendering of a bare-breasted woman, complete with pubic hair and was drawing arrow after arrow pointing to her crotch. Time was running out and he was obviously upset that no one was guessing.

The buzzer went off, without a sound from anyone.

“Man! I can’t believe you didn’t get that. ‘TRIM’.”

Thus ended the party.

13

And then, there was this one time, at band camp …

Ok, it wasn’t at band camp, but it was in high school, in drama club. We were rehearsing the play, “Web of Murder”, I believe it was called, your typically poorly written whodunnit for high-schoolers.

Anyhoo, there’s a scene where the female lead, played by a good friend - Sherry, is to recite her lines while crossing to the fireplace, swinging the picture over the mantle open (as though there were a safe behind it), and reaching in for something.
Now I wasn’t on stage for this scene, but obviously Sherry was, as well as my other good friend Allen. Before hand, Allen and I decided to plant a relatively anatomically accurate model of the male and female genitalia, done in styrofoam, in the cubby behind the picture. (this was the dress rehearsal, not the actual performance)
Sherry does her blocking, opens the picture, sees our little styrofoam renderings, and barely cracks a smile - what a trooper. She goes back to the stage sofa, and sits down next to Allen, who isn’t faring as well. She’s glaring at him in mock anger.
All of a sudden the little structure behind the picture where our models were, fell, landing directly in the faux-fireplace below.
All the actors on stage freeze. And then Allen starts singing … “Come on let’s have a weinie roast, you don’t have to have a fire …”
Bedlam! Everybody on stage and off is reduced to tears and laughter.
Our drama teacher was not impressed.

14

I remember watching comedian Jake Johannsen doing some routine about He-Man action figures that absolutely killed me.

15

When I was visiting RickQin England, I had been on my low carb diet for about 2 months, which meant two months without sweets or other carb-laden foods. At one point, unnoticed by me, Rick was eating a chocolate bar. I kissed him and was immediately taken by the oh-so-delicious taste of chocolate. “Are you eating chocolate???” I asked. “Oh, God, kiss me again!!!” Something about the hungry tone in my voice cracked us both up. Because it was late, we tried to be quiet, which of course made us laugh harder. Even now, thinking about the chocolate kiss makes me smile. :slight_smile:

16

Ahhh, several things come to mind…

One time, me and some friends were playing pool, and my friend, Marco lost. In anger, he pulled the eight ball out of the pocket and intended to roll it furiously across the table…well, it took a bounce, and ended up nailing another friend right square in the nuts. We all fell to the floor, including the injured person…it was such a perfect shot. We could’nt stop laughing forever…except him.

Another time, me and a friend Richard were at a strip club, and he went up to tip a dancer…well, instead of giving her a dollar, he gave her a fifty! He realized it when he got back to the table, so he sheepishly went to her after her dance and asked for his fifty back. It was funnier at the time, I guess. You had to be there.

Another time, me and Rich were at his ranch, and we were walking through some pretty thick brush. Now, there are alot of wild hogs and javelinas in the brush, so we were walking very carefully and nervous. I was about ten yards behind him, and I picked up a small log, about a foot and a half long, three inches thick, and threw it twenty yards ahead of him. It made a good loud crunch in the brush, and I think I saw Richard actually run on TOP of the grass, running back to where I was, on the ground, laughing so hard. He called me asshole, bastard, dick, motherfucker, and any other name you can imagine. I damn near gave him a heartattack.

Another time, way back in high school, (I’m 31 now) me and Rich were driving around with a couple of girls drinking beers, you know, just doing what high school kids do. Well, after a few beers, the girls ended up ummmmmmmmmm, with their mouths full. So there we are, driving around town, getting joint hummers. Well, we finished our business, and decided we were hungry, so went to Whataburger. While in line, one of the girls ran her fingers through her hair, and screamed out so loud. “OH MY GOD, THERE’S FUCKING CUM IN MY HAIR!” She went on and on freaking out about jism in her hair, while the rest of us, as well as other customers and workers were laughing, me and Rich laughed the hardest.

One time, I was on a date, and I got up to go take a leak. You know when you’re pissing, and you feel a fart coming on? Well, I let it rip, but it was’nt a fart. I shit my pants! I went into a stall, and pulled my pants and underwear, (thank god I was wearing some that night) down to my knees, and my underwear were full of shit. I was wearing some high top boots that night, and was’nt about to attempt taking them off to take my pants and underwear off, so I grabbed the little pocket knife that’s on my key chain, and cut off my underwear, wiped myself clean, and threw the underwear in the trash can. Imagine the person who changed trash bags that night! I calmly went back out to my date, and she said “you were gone a long time”, I said “yeah, well, I gotta make sure I look good, babe”. That was’nt really a funny experience for me, but everyone I tell seems to get a good laugh out of it.

Then, of course, who has’nt had a friend spit out the window just to get it back in the face? That’s always a riot.

One time, I spit out my window, only to realize that the window was’nt down! I had a big ol’ wad running down my window. bummer.

Don’t even get me started on playing golf with Richard. He can hit anything withing 180 degrees, I swear. I stay way behind him antime he hits.

I have so many memories, I just bring them to mind at the moment, maybe if I think of a really good one, I’ll be back.

Later for now, kids.

17

Several years ago, my then-roommate and I were having dinner with my then-boyfriend. I was cooking a fairly elaborate Chinese menu. The BF had the oh-so-annoying habit of wandering into the kitchen, grabbing a handful of ingredients, and eating them (a real pain if you’ve pre-measured stuff, as I used to do). We had both asked him to stop, but no…

So roomie and I are talking idly while stuff simmers, and BF walks in, grabs, and munches down - a big handful of ginger root. His face turns red and his eyes start to water, while we’re giggling. He grabs for the nearest glass of liquid, to wash away the taste, and gulps down - about 2 cups of undiluted lemon juice. The combination of expressions that crossed his face in the following few seconds were… priceless.

We didn’t date for long. But the roomie and I have been laughing out butts off for years now.

18

This happened a week ago actually, so I should be able to remember most of it quite well.
Went out for dinner at a less than 5 star place. There was a brithday party going on behind us, and they were really loud and irritating. So our food finally arrives (they’re pretty slow, well, really slow) and they screwed our orders up, but since it takes 45 minutes to get a glass of water there, we deal with it and dig in. Anyway, the party is still going on, and me and the person with me are sitting there, not very happy. We finish eating, and we’re both still not very pleased with the evening. I’m about 5 seconds away from knifing the guy just behind me, but instead, I reach for a dinner roll. I take my steak knife, and plunge it into the center of the roll. Then, with some small breadsticks, I fashion arms and legs. I add a slice of orange for a head (no idea why the orange slice was there, looks I suppose, but it was handy). Next I spread some ketchup around the knife, and begin to giggle like an idiot over my handy-work. The waitress walks up behind me at this point to bring us the bill, and looks at my little stabbing victim. She says “Oh, umm…” and then I burst out laughing. The waitress picks up my plate with the little man on it, and almost drops it when she starts laughing. The party going on behind us goes silent all of a suddden, and I turn to see them all staring at me, which leads to more laughing. By the end the whole kitchen staff had seen the little roll-man, and were laughing as we walked out. My ribs and throat hurt for hours afterwards :slight_smile:

19

The punch line to this is going to sound a insensitive (and it is), it just happened to be one of those private jokes a few of use in college shared.

One Sunday at church we were lucky enough to have a professional opera singer visiting (he was related to someone in the congregation). Being the imposing sorts we were, someone asked him to perform, and being a nice guy he gladly did.

For nearly 30 minutes he filled the church with truly beautiful sacred music. Really, it was just stunning, one of the best performances I’ve ever heard anywhere.

When he finally finished, in that quiet hush that always occurs before everyone in the audience shifts in their seats and coughs and such, I leaned over to my friend and whispered:

“Not bad. For a harelip.”

We spent the entire rest of the service in barely controlled laughing, sides aching, unable to even look at each other for fear we wouldn’t be able to contain ourselves.

20

I once laughed my ass right off for 49 minutes straight at nothing.

Of course, I was really high.