This took place in a training class of about thirty people, all of whom were men. During a break someone, not me, made mention of being the recipient of oral sex the evening before. I immediately said, “I’d walk fifty miles for a good B.J.” and then with accidental but absolutely perfect timing I added “And forty nine for a bad one.” The place was a bedlam of howls of laughter; people continued to laugh at inopportune times for the rest of the day.
This was years ago when men were unabashedly MCPs; we just didn’t know any better.
One of my pals is known for cracking jokes over anything. Much of his humor is very tasteless and I usually find myself not laughing. It’s much worse when he’s had a few. Of course this has made me the ‘stick in the mud’ of the group.
One night a few years ago we were all at a small country bar - my sis, her fiance, the jokester and his wife, and another couple. Us women were sitting at a table, the guys were standing alongside yammering in their own world.
We somehow got on the subject of bathing our pets. I stated that one of my cats had needed a bath quite badly, and how she actually enjoyed it; however, the only pet shampoo we had was for dogs and it had sparkles in it. So we were giggling about how pretty the cat was… Jokester asked what we were talking about:
“Oh, just my glittery pussy”
Dead silence. All eyes to me. He turned BRIGHT red. Eyes neigh on crossed. He sputtered. Then we all broke out laughing. Jokester had NEVER been made speechless before. It was beautiful.
Reminds me of when Episode II came out and Anakin is hitting on Padme. She goes “Oh Anakin, you’re still the little boy I remember on Tatooine” and I yell out “Oh, burn!”
This is only funny when you’ve seen the movie “Finding Nemo”. You remember the seagulls in that movie, that argue about any scrap of food with “Mine!” -“Mine!” “MINE!” and so forth? Good.
I used to be a member of a Christian student’s club (I’m not a member anymore, the club nor the faith) and at some point a big group of us went to watch a movie, and “Finding Nemo” was the only movie that was deemed appropriate and wholesome enough for a bunch of 18yr Christians. We went and saw it, having a great time.
Fastforward to a week later, where the student club has invited an American preacher (which is unusual, since we’re all Dutch) to do some preachin’ to us. He’s loud. He’s enthusiastic. And at some point he exclaims "The Lord says: ‘You are mine!’ ". And just loud enough for everyone to hear I do the perfect seagull imitation: “Mine.”.
Now, this propably doesn’t qualify as the biggest laugh ever, but for the next half hour people everywhere were on the brink of suffocating trying not to laugh out loud.
It was toward the end of my senior year in high school and time for making the annual physics project. At the time, I’d been playing around with my dad’s 8mm film movie camera (before consumer video), and learned to make pretty smooth stop-action animation clips. Somehow, I related stop-action animation to physics and got permission to make that the theme for my project. My physics teacher was a real character with a superb, though somewhat warped sense of humor. His questions on our exams, for example, were always long, convoluted masterpieces that typically went something like, “…then, as you sit across from your hot, blind date at McDonald’s, thinking desperately of something impressive to say, you open your mouth to speak and a piece of a Big Mac patty tumbles from your lips. As the particle of meat accelerates toward the table, calculate the…” I knew instinctually that the easy way to a good grade from this guy would be to add a bit of off-kilter humor to ones project, so that’s what I did. I ended up with a steamy, 3 minute, soft porn animation staring *GI Joe *and Barbie (Roy Roger’s horse, Trigger, may have made a cameo appearance too, I don’t recall). I paid attention to detail and I tried hard to make it authentically campy, just like the real porno flicks of the day (yes, my high school buddies and I managed to sneak into one or two smokers back in the ‘70’s…after church, of course)—even keeping Joe’s black socks on during the flagrante dilicto scene. I had a few doubts just before showing the film to the class. (Hmm, pornography in public school…am I pushing the envelope a bit too far here?). Needless to say I was relieved when my project received deafening accolades and a standing ovation from my classmates. After Mr. Bates regained his composure from being doubled over laughing, he immediately gave me an “A”, then curiously asked me if he could keep my film. Would he give me an “A”, but still turn my film over to the principle for disciplinary action? No, the Master (as he didn’t mind being called) was too cool for that, so I agreed to let him keep my film. Fast forward nearly 20 years, visiting my old school and finding Mr. Bates, a little grayer and paunchier, in the hallway before class was to begin. Remarkably, he remembered who I was and invited me into the classroom, where upon he announced; “here’s that nutty pupil of mine who made that Barbie and GI Jo movie”. A hearty round of applause followed. Mr. Bates, then turns to me and said, "I show your film to my class every year and tell them, If you want an “A” on your project, make it like this…” An unusual way to achieve some measure of immortality, but, I’ll take it.
The new factory boss decided to do something about quality control. Naturally, this meant everyone had to go to a long, meaningless meeting about it. Each meeting had about 120 to 150 people, and overhead projector, and a canned speech by the superintendant of that plant. They ended with a call for questions or suggestions.
The three weeks previous, we had been sent a whole lot of chrome plated parts with big gaps in the plating. Everbody was edgy about the extra work and hassle.
When the suggestion period came up, I stood. “You know, I think hiring the handicapped is great, and I’m glad we doing it. I have to say, though, that Plating Inspection is not the place for the blind.” The room erupted in laughter, and I got a standing ovation.
Two days later, our plant superintendant spotted me while he was talking to the inspection superintendant. He waved me over, and he said to the other guy, “You missed our meeting the other day, Bob. I want you to hear what Nott told us.” I repeated my comment. My boss’s boss doubled over again, and Bob could only knit his brows and puff his pipe.
4th period was Madrigals. This was an honor singing group, each person very carefully selected and the group limited to 36 people.
The teacher was doing roll call, when she stopped and exclaimed, “Listen to the voices! Each one beautiful, tonal, and very representative of each person! Female voices. Male voices. All beautiful!”
Sitting next to Sherry, I nudged her, and whispered to her. She nodded back and when the instructor called “Sherry!” I dropped my voice a full octave and bellowed “HERE!!!”
It took a good 5 minutes to regain control - instructor included.
I made a pupil sipping cola laugh so much that the cola came out of their nose. :eek:
(Sadly I can’t remember what I said. :smack: )
The biggest laugh I ever heard came in the early 1970’s. (For those young 'uns who don’t remember that far back, sex education then was a taboo subject.)
So our University was showing a short film about basic sex terms. Students packed the lecture hall, cramming in the aisles.
At one point a bored-looking woman was shown lying on a bed in her underwear.
The commentary went something like “and women can also pleasure themselves. Masturbation is harmless. You will not go blind. Instead you will feel a strong sense of relief…”
At this point a student moaned loudly!
They had to stop the film for 10 minutes, because the hall erupted in laughter.
Told a very silly joke to my high school class (Did you hear about the disease you get from kissing birds? It’s called chirpees, it’s a canarial disease, and I hear it’s untweetable.) Lame, but one of the few appropriate jokes I know. One girl thought it was way too hilarious and started laughing really, really hard, with this really funny laugh that sounded like a seal (hork! hork! hork!). Chaos ensued. It took me 15 minutes to get back in control of the class.
When she sees me in the hall (a year later) she still giggles and says “Untweetable!”
Probably not the biggest, but it’s the one I best remember since people still mention it when they see me, nigh on fourteen years later.
When I was around eleven, my Girl Scout troop went camping at Camp Pendelton. Part of the fun was running the Marine obstacle course there, which involved getting very muddy. We’re talking total mud immersion.
We cleaned ourselves up using the sinks in a camp bathroom, as there were no shower facilities for campers. Later some parents came to visit, including my mother, known to the whole scout troop as the neatest of the neat freaks and extremely dirt-phobic. The parents asked us girls how the obstacle course had went, but my mother’s main concern was how had we cleaned ourselves up? In the bathroom we told her.
“But where did you wash your hair?” she asked.
Immediately, and completely deadpan, I responded, “In the toilets.”
The whole troop full of girls and parents burst into laughter. For years, my troop leader and fellow scouts would say, out of the blue, “In the toilets!”
I was gathered with a bunch of drunk geeks, one of whom was going to get married soon. The conversation turned to whether he had plans to have kids. He then asked about me - did I ever want kids?
So I said, “Me? Heck no. I’d be a terrible father. Everything I know about child-rearing I learned from MS-DOS: Abort, Retry, Ignore.”
I’ve posted this story before, but I will post it again:
I was about 14 years old and was on a family vacation to Colorodo. We were on a tour bus to the top of Pike’s Peak. This was a small bus with a driver who would also act as tour guide. He had a microphone and speakers on the bus so he could talk as he drove us up. As we got higher and higher, the road changed from paved with guard rails, to unpaved with guard rails, to finally unpaved with no guard rails.
On the way up the bus would periodically pull over to the side of the road to let vehicles coming down to go through. On one such instance, we were on the unpaved, no rail road… and he pulled over toward the far side of the road…the side away from the side of the mountain with NO GUARD RAIL!!! Obviously he’s done this thousands of times and we were in no danger, but people started kind of freaking out. He smiled and said, “Hey I was just being polite and pulled over to the side of the road.” I immediately said, “Yeah, the WRONG side!”. Everyone laughed really hard the rest of the trip up.
I had to give a presentation to all the staff at my job. I had the bad judgment to wear a black silk shirt that had a bit of a sheen to it. When I finished, I asked the obligatory, “Any questions?”
One wit piped up, “Yeah, does your wife know you’re wearing her blouse?”
I replied, “Well, I’m going straight from here to my night job as a pimp. And speaking of wives, tell yours she was late for work last night.”
Even the President, a fairly straight-laced woman, had to laugh at that.
I was a member of the Film Society in college, we arranged and showed cheap movies for students on campus, and we had an office. It was maybe 20’x20’ and had a desk and some cabinets for storing movie posters. It was mainly a place to store things and hang out. So one day a group of us are in there, and one of our friends comes in. This individual, who was very gay, was wearing bright orange sneakers, sky blue pants, a yellow t-shirt, and an open bright green button down over it. And his hair was dyed fire engine red. The room went dead silent for a few seconds, and I said ‘Paul, you appear to have been mugged by Rainbow Brite’. Everyone lost it. Paul couldn’t say anything without making us laugh harder, so he wandered away. Maybe half an hour later he came back in, setting off even more laughter. My friends still quote that line when we see something really colorful.
Here’s mine. Doesn’t really stand up to some of the others, but it was amusing in a you-had-to-be-there kind of way.
I was in a bar one Saturday night having some drafts. The bartender had just handed me a fresh glass and some of the foam came over the lip of the glass and dribbled down the side onto the coaster. I deadpanned in my best Robin Williams voice, “Whoa!! Paper trained.”
It was all the guy next to me could do to not spit out his beer.
My most recent gut-buster, at least for those present, happened in the online chat room that a bunch of coworkers pass the day in. The following transcript was between Brad and me, though there were others present:
Brad: how does ‘you have a small penis’ spam make it past a spam service that claims 99.99% reliability?
Kevin: only if you actually do have a small penis
Brad: do they have a “Oh, that’s for Brad. He probably wants that mail” filter?
Brad: and who has been talking about me publicly like that!?
Kevin: not me. I know for a fact your penis is huuuuuuuuuuuge.
Brad: that was you at the christmas party?
Kevin: yeah, I look way different in my Christmas turkey costume
Kevin: for the record, that’s not what I meant when I asked for the stuffing
To this day I have coworkers who crack up about that last line. Hell, I crack me up about it.
