What`s an adult doing watching the PPG?
I thought the Beatles parody was the best one. Very clever.
Way over the heads of the target audience, by the way.
One day my Dad and I went to visit my brother who lives on an island. To get to it you have to take a ferry. Since the ride is only 15 minutes we usually stay in our car. This particular time, there was a minvan parked a lane over and a few cars ahead of us. As the ferry pulled away, we noticed a young man come around to the back of the van and open the rear. It was one of those kinds where the door raises upward.
So, he’s talking to his wife, who is up front. He sets a paper cup of coffee on the bumper then he goes back around to the driver’s side.
The wife gets out of the passenger side and comes around to the back with a baby on her hip. She’s still talking to her husband, who is out of both her and our sight.
Now maybe you can see what is coming. We sure did. We’re saying to ourselves, “Don’t do it. Don’t do it…” To call out to her over the noise of the ferry’s engines would have done no good.
Sure enough, the woman reaches up and yanks the back door closed. Splat!!! Coffee everywhere!
Dad and I burst out laughing so hard and for so long! And we kept bursting out at random moments throughout the rest of the trip to my brother’s place. Oh, if we only had a video camera!
Fortunately for the couple, most of the coffee landed outside of the van.
Dear, sweet Aunt Ellen was riding in an Enormous Buick with four other dear sweet ladies, none of them under 70. They were heading back from a Daughters of the American Revolution thing when a cop pulled them over for speeding. The policeman solemnly told the driver how fast she’d been driving. The driver interrupted to ask if she could just save some time by buying some tickets to the Policemen’s Ball. He straightened his mirrored glasses and said, “Ma’am, I’m a State Policeman. State Policemen don’t have Balls.”
All five old ladies roared with laughter, and they didn’t stop until after the cop had turned on his heel, got back in his car, and driven away.
I was careful not to abbreviate. Little Old Ladies comes out LOL.
Dear, sweet Aunt Ellen was riding in an Enormous Buick with four other dear sweet ladies, none of them under 70. They were heading back from a Daughters of the American Revolution thing when a cop pulled them over for speeding. The policeman solemnly told the driver how fast she’d been driving. The driver interrupted to ask if she could just save some time by buying some tickets to the Policemen’s Ball. He straightened his mirrored glasses and said, “Ma’am, I’m a State Policeman. State Policemen don’t have Balls.”
All five old ladies roared with laughter, and they didn’t stop until after the cop had turned on his heel, got back in his car, and driven away.
I was careful not to abbreviate. Little Old Ladies comes out LOL.
Last Friday, I sent Tiburon a text message on a lark. A few hours later, she called me back. She was at a bar with some friends. And she might have had just a liiiiiiittle bit to drink, because she sang “We’ve Lost that Lovin’ Feeling” to me. The entire song. Over the phone, in a bar.
I almost strained a stomach muscle, I was laughing so hard.
To quote Dave Barry, “I am not making this up.”
I once had the privilege of hearing a sermon titled “Jonah and His Three Boners”. (I guess the preacher was a little naive.) The first time he came out with, “Jonah’s first boner was when he did not listen to the Lord…” my brother and I started giggling, Mom kept trying to look stern. But as the sermon went on, and the oblivious preacher kept throwing in “Jonah’s second boner…Jonah’s worst boner, etc.” she eventually broke down. (Quietly) My brother and I were convulsed with laughter to the point of gasping and kicking our feet. And when the sermon wound up with the whale “belching” Jonah onto the shore, it was all we could do not to wet ourselves.
The kicker: As we left the church that day, trembling and wiping our eyes, Mom turned to a nearby lady and said, “Thank you for having us in your church today. We really enjoyed it.” The lady looked at us like this: :dubious: and said “Yes, I could see that!”
huh.
damn.
guess that shows how long since i’ve done any active poetry reading. one less thing i shall be ignorant on now. 
Dung Beetle’s story brought up a forgotten memory of my uncle’s wedding ceremony.
it was a very small ceremony in the church, pretty much immediate family only – Grandma (his mother), my mom (his sister), my great aunt, along with their attendant spouses, and myself. somehow or other it seemed like all the wimmenfolk wound up sitting either right next to each other, or immediately adjacent in the pews, with spouses grouped to the outer edges. this proved to be nearly fatal in the long run.
even though the ceremony was small and fairly bare-bones, my uncle and aunt-to-be had somehow snagged an organist to play during the service. one of those dear sweet old ladies who probably donates tons of her time and life to helping the church and all that. she was a fairly competent player, i think, but what none of us will ever forget was that she also fancied herself as a soloist as well.
i won’t say our family is greatly musical, but generally speaking we can all carry a tune. this poor lady couldn’t, not even if you handed her a five-gallon bucket. she quavered. she warbled. she’d try on various notes until she settled on one that seemed to fit the general notation of whatever hymn she was slaught … um, singing. (to this day, i couldn’t begin to tell you which hymn she was allegedly regaling us with.) and all in a wispy attempt at soprano, to boot.
both my great aunt and myself have been known for giggle-fits, the kind where you start and just can’t stop yourself. i can’t remember which of us finally broke first, but break we did. you’d have needed superhuman control to sit through that solo without either wincing in pain or laughing. the good news was, both of us excelled in the “silent laughter” mode, so i doubt that anyone farther than a few pews away would have realized that we were running amuck. but we started. one would quiver with a quick chuckle; the other would break out in sympathetic mirth. no sooner did one of us get the giggles under control than the other would start up again. my mother admirably held out for several minutes before the contagion spread to her also. so all three of us are giggling like mad, sometimes separately, sometimes in unison. my grandmother, of course, is having one of the major cows of her life as she observes all this. the harder she pokes or tries to shush us, the worse it gets. i can’t believe i didn’t actually fall off the kneeler onto the floor from the sustained repressed laughter.
mercifully for all (particularly my grandmother’s blood pressure), the recital came at last to an end. we managed to get ourselves back in hand by the time the ceremony was over. but to this day, i think my mother and i will still start up again if anyone brings up my uncle’s wedding.
An indignant Frasier in Cheers: “Are you saying I’m redundant, that I repeat myself, that I say things over and over???”
R. Lee Ermey, host of Mail Call, is incredibly funny. The sight of this old Marine DI sitting in his jeep and rowing it while singing “Row, Row, Row your jeep gently down the stream…” made me die laughing.
Or when he does “If They Mated.”
Conan: So here’s a picture of Britney Spears and one of Colin Farrell. They been seen in each others company lately let’s see what their kids would like if they mated…OH, DEAR LORD!!! THAT’S WRONG!!! THAT’S JUST WRONG!!!
I don’t know why, but almost anything SPOZ writes has me going into “hysterical laughter sessions” (as my friend Eric likes to call them)…
Then again, pretty much anything REALLY funny has me in stitches. But then, it has to be funny to me. For examples of such, read the “HILARIOUS QUOTES OF THE WEEK” in my blog.
Most recent example? My mother calling my fluorescent pink shirt “forensic pink,” and calling a guava “foie gras.” No, her English isn’t the very best… and my siblings and I rag on her all the time for it. 
F_X
This is very, very disgusting, so don’t read it if you get offended easily.
A few friends and I were down in Miami in a HoJo waiting to go on a cruise the next day. We’ve got time to kill, so we go to the nearest gas station and pick up a 12 pack. This is a very, very baaad part of town, so we weren’t too surprised to be panhandled by an honest to goodness crack-whore. We gave her some change and hustled back to the hotel. We get almost all the way through the 12 pack and I get up to get another beer/pee when I spot the crack-whore down on the street. I should mention that we were on a 7th floor balcony at least 50 feet back from the street.
I said (jokingly) “I wonder if I could hit that CH from here?” A friend told me that there’s no way an empty can could be thrown that far. I suggested filling it with water, but was stopped by the suggestion of filling it with pee. If this seems cruel and offensive, please stop reading now! So, I FILL the can with pee, but don’t have the heart to actually chuck it at the poor lady. Guy #3 says “gimmie that ya big wuss” and then HURLS the can at her. It does not hit her, which we were all pretty relieved by, but it missed her head by less than a foot. Needless to say, this scared the holy jesus out of her, and we almost wet ourselves. Once we regained some composure and came out from hiding in the room, we saw that she was still out there walking around. Our giggles had just subsided when she picked the can up, we thought in order to try throwing back at us.
She looks at the can, sees it’s a beer can, and I swear to God…chugs at least a third of it before looking at the can again and throwing it in the street. The pee couldn’t have been out of my body much over a minute, so I’m sure it was extra unpleasant. Obviously we lost it entirely. We later saw her trying to pick up johns at a nearby stoplight, probably got a few “get some gum” remarks.
In my youth, I was in bed with a young girl, and we were both wearing bunny slippers and pajamas.
We spent a little bit of time playing “puppet show” with the slippers, when she said, (very gravely,) “Wouldn’t it be wierd if we used actual bunnies for slippers? You know, just walked up to them, rolled them over on their backs, and jammed our feet right in there?”
There was a brief silence followed by about fifteen minutes of helpless, convulsive laughter. LSD was a contributing factor.
Two words—
the one that still gets me the most must be part of the death sketch in Monty Python’s ‘The Meaning Of Life’.
shortly after Death has enlightened the whole dinner party to the fact that they died from eating salmon mousse made with canned salmon (dont ask…), they all leave the house as ghosts…
what slays me is at this point, listen carefully and you’ll hear someone say ‘i didnt even eat the salmon mousse…’
that bit never fails to get me into a full-on scream-laugh!! 
Now I’m laughing my head off. I’m glad I clicked on that. I’d gone past it a few times and thought it was just this post that I remembered that wasn’t all that funny. I really like the real picture of the cat. And the fact that the whole site is devoted to that one story. And I like the drawings too.
heeheeheeheehee. cat enema.
In Fawlty Towers, when Manuel is cleaning up behind the front desk and the moose head is sitting on it. The old guy walks in and Manuel starts practising his English, of course completely hidden from view. “I speak english, I learned it from a booook.” The look on the old man’s face as he turns and leaves the room is priceless.
Also FT, when the germans are staying at the hotel and Basil is going on and on about the war, and he finally sets his finger on top of his lip (to imitate a Hitler moustache) and starts goosestepping around.
The Welcome to Hell speech in Rowan Atkinson Live. “I, of course, am the devil, but you can call me Toby if you like.”
I was visiting my sister with my terrier who has an unsatiable “must play” addiction. The dog loves tennis balls, basketballs, soccerballs, or any other kind and will try to jump and grab them away from you if you are even holding one thinking you want to play.
So i’m in the backyard with the dog and my 13 year-old nephew. The dog spots down the block some guys shooting hoops and starts running full speed towards them. We start after the dog and my nephew yells “hey guys!” They look up and see this terrier bearing down on them not knowing what to think. My nephew then adds without even thinking what he is saying “Grab your balls!!!” There eyes all grew about two sizes.
I started dying laughing and my nephew then realized what he had said and joined me keeled over grabbing his gut.
A while back, Mr. Rilch, Friend and I were playing Trivial Pursuit (20th Anniversary edition). I was reading a question, and mispronounced a word.
Actually, “mispronounced” isn’t quite accurate. What I did was, I accidentally substituted a racial slur for one of the words in the question (they differed by one letter). Not only that, but my error made the entire sentence into a slur! Or it would have, if I hadn’t stopped right after that word and lowered my head to the table. All I could do was laugh, because I figured there was no coming back from that.
When I was a freshman at St. John’s (SF campus), the Reality festival’s opening ceremony ended with a film that we were told was footage of Johnnies from an earlier era at either seminar or a regular class. And that’s how it started out…until, very abruptly, it changed to footage of some guy with a cigarette mouth, who proceeded to strip. Fully. And the camera got him from every conceivable angle. He was saying something, but none of us could hear a word above our own howling. No, he wasn’t a student; the sophomore committee later told us he was a male prostitute. Where they got the film, I did not ask.
Link (couldn’t include it a minute ago; my computer is wonky)