I’ve posted this before, too, but this’ll be the short version.
Four guys in a car. Dale is in the back seat. He puts both feet up on the back of the front seat, and his butt goes:
"Teeeeeeeeeoooooooooooooooooooooweet!"
He long-chirped a fart.
Three for you:
When TheKid was little we liked to play charades. We never did the words in a hat thing, they were just off the top of our heads. One day she had a friend over and they they were the ‘players’ and I was the ‘guesser’. When your kid is 6, charades is pretty simple. “You’re a cat”, “you’re a firefighter”. That day she laid on the ground, arms and legs in the air, slightly twitching her hands and feet. I had no clue. I gave up. She stood up, and in the most affronted voice a six year old can give, informed me “Mo-om, I was a dead bug. Geesh”. I laughed so hard I fell off the couch.
TheKid, my sister, and I like to go bumming around - window shopping, lunch, maybe manis/pedis. Girly stuff, yanno? Sis always drives and I always end up being comic relief. We were driving home, telling slightly cheesy jokes, no big whoop. However, they were starting to tickle my sister. I did the “What’s black and white and says ooom?” joke (answer: a dyslexic cow). She started howling. This triggered TheKid, who has the same laugh as sis - an almost whooping laugh. When they laugh they also do this little ‘whoo hoo’ thing when trying to calm down. So they’re cracking up, whooping, snorting…then they slow down. They both whoo-hoo’d at the same time. Sis had to pull over, she was crying with laughter and could no longer see the road.
Last night TheKid was playing with Lucy. We have this feather on a stick thing Lucy goes apenuts over. So, she’s twitching it around, not super paying attention as she was texting also. Suddenly Lucy pounced, scared the bejeebers out of TheKid. I started cracking up. TheKid, knowing me cracking up is not common, started playing it up. She actually put her phone down to play with the cat. Okay, you see the cat is wiggling her butt, ready to pounce. When Lucy did pounce, with TheKid looking right at her, but it still startled the hell out of her… my stomach hurt from laughing so hard.
Last night. My son said “Watch this…” and clapped his hands - one of my daughter’s gerbils (in a glass tank in the room) jumped about 8 inches vertically. I was about to try to explain that this was probably a bit cruel, and that the animal might just keel over from fright, and he clapped again several times - and the gerbil jumped again each time.
I mean, I still think it’s a bit cruel, but visually, it was so weird, I couldn’t help laughing. I think I cracked a rib on Saturday night after colliding with someone while ice skating (he was going the wrong way) - so it was doubly incapacitating - sort of ha-ouch-ha-ouch!
I don’t get this.
My WAG:
olives is easily startled. She sees her husband with wide eyes, running, and urging her to “go go go!” Her brain says “omg there’s some kind of danger! he’s telling me to run!” and actually runs to get out of the house rather than getting ready to play their game together.
Yep, exactly that.
Ah, thanks. I see it now.
I think I may have floated this story before, not sure, but I wrote about it in my FaceBook not too long ago and it applies, so, Mr. Cut-and-Paste? Do your thing:
When I was going to school at UMFK, my roommate was on the basketball team. His brother was on the basketball team, and a bunch of guys from his hometown were all on the basketball team. So, basically, all my friends were basketball players – this was the crowd I hung out with. I’ll leave alone the visual of little 5’8" me hanging out with a bunch of over 6-footers. Anyhoo …
The school was hosting a basketball tourney and there was a game going on between two other schools, so we were all hanging out in the bleachers watching the game and goofing around, as college students are wont to do. The coach of the team we were sorta heckling looked just like Ted Knight. And were pulling out all the Mary Tyler Moore references we could to be douche-bags. At one point the coach for our team came over and read us the riot act – you yahoos better shut the hell up – respect – school spirit – that whole trip. So we clammed up like good little boys who didn’t want to get thrown out.
About 5 minutes later, the white haired coach turns around and says to us, somewhat smugly, “That’s better. Thank you for acting like gentlemen.” … or something along those lines. That didn’t sit well with us but no one was going to say anything; except for one guy (and for my life I can’t remember his real name) had to pipe up:
“Hey Whitey, where’s your hat?”
Holy shit … we all fell out nose-puking laughing. Serious, side-splitting, can’t catch your breath, riotous cracking up. Half the bleachers lost it along with us.
We got kicked out of the game. Totally worth it. We called our friend who shouted that out, “Whitey” from then on.
I was reminded of this the other day, otherwise I might have contributed it further upthread.
I worked at a pet store in the 80s. It was a family owned pet store and I first got the job there because I was a long-time friend of one of the daughters of the owner, Julia for the sake of this story. Julia’s cousin Felicia also worked there. Felicia was sweet, but oddish: a tiny bit aspergery, I think; very very shy, a little frumpy for a teenager, and easily embarrassed. One of the suppliers had a sales rep who’d stop by once a week and check on our kitty litter or aquarium gravel order. He was a tall dorky guy in his 30s named Ken. We understood he lived with his mother. He was the kind of dorky whose laugh consisted of, quite literally, a single snort as he pushed his glasses to the top of his nose.
Ken had a thing for Felicia. He was blushy and snorty around her, dropped things and stammered. Felicia would turn bright red and run in back whenever he was sighted.
One day Julia and I started teasing Felicia about her “boyfriend.” She smiled, blushed, covered her face, waved us away. Suddenly I thought of the Michael Jackson song “Ben,” and began singing it to her, retitled “Ken.” Julia and I kept adding verses until she and I were in a limp and quivering heap on the floor, and Felicia was locked in the bathroom screaming “stop it stop it stop it!” Here are the first couple verses I contributed:
Ken, the two of us need look no more.
We’ve both found what we were looking for.
Ken, they don’t know how it feels,
The way it makes me squeal,
I can’t believe it’s real,
Your manwich is a me-ee-eal.
(Please put your friend in meeee.)
I used to say
Please go away
Now I say
Hey baybaby
Ken, most people would turn you away.
I won’t listen to a word they say.
Ken, you make me feel so warm,
You’d never do me harm,
Let’s move out to your farm,
It’s like a baby’s ar-ar-arm!
(Please put your friend in meee.)
I used to say
Leave me be
Now I say
Please pee on me
…
Etc. It remained a big hit. We added verses regularly.
I wasn’t even there, and I think it’s hilarious!
The last bar I bounced in, there was this loudmouthed blowhard who came in one night with this little waif of a woman. I knew he was going to be trouble, but we were prohibited by the management to decline to serve anyone unless they were already drunk or until they had actually started something.
Sure enough, after a couple of hours this guy is shooting pool and starts a fight with his opponent. I jumped off my stool and started to charge in but before I could get there, his tiny little girlfriend grabbed a cue stick, brought it straight down over his head like Conan trying to cleave someone’s skull, breaking the stick in two, and yelled, “God damn it, you tiny-dicked piece of shit. Knock it off!”
He slinked out of the joint with her right on his heels, yipping at him like an angry chihuahua. The whole place busted out laughing and I couldn’t catch my breath for a full minute.
Me no get. 
I did that the first time I saw Carol Burnett’s ‘Went With the Wind’. I wasn’t entirely sure how I got there. One moment, Carol was coming down the stairs in her new dress, and I was laughing as hard as I ever had, sitting in the easy chair; then, she & Harvey traded the punchline, and the next thing I remember I was sitting on the floor with an ache in my side trying desperately to get enough air in my lungs to survive on …
When telling my boss why a project had gone horribly wrong and there was no money to fix it.
I didn’t even know it existed then., but I now curse the giggle loop with all my heart.
cwPartner and I used to go to Shabbat services at a Reform synagogue. There are two important bits of background:
(1) Like many synagogues, there were a variety of social clubs for the membership, including one for married couples. At this particular synagogue, the couples’ club was called the “Mr & Mrs Club.” They hosted a number of fund-raising events throughout the year.
(2) A lot of people only come to services to say Kaddish, and *no one * likes to sit through the announcements of social activities, congregational news, and so on. To ensure that people hear the announcements, whoever is running the service usually reads them just before Kaddish.
(3) Here in the upper Midwest, one popular summertime activity is the fish-boil, which is exactly what it sounds like.
So we’re sitting there, listening to the announcements go on… and on… and on. Eventually, whoever was reading them mentioned an upcoming event sponsored by the couples’ club: “the annual Mr & Mrs fish-boil.” What I heard, thought, was “Mr. and Mrs. Fishboil,” and for some reason - probably a combination of boredom and immaturity - it made me laugh. cwPartner picked up on it as well, and we were both giggling quietly.
Of course, the harder you try not to giggle, the worse it gets, and this is exactly what happened as the Kaddish started. There we were, unable to stop, trying desperately to control ourselves while the people around us are saying Kaddish in memory of dearly departed loved ones. We were hanging on to the back of the seats in front of us, looking down at the ground, trying not to make complete fools of ourselves.
Eventually the Kaddish ended, and the woman in the seat in front of us turned around, grabbed my hand, and said something like “It’s hard to not be overwhelmed with grief when they say Kaddish, I understand.”
Caddyshack reference-one of Rodney Dangerfield’s cutdowns directed at the Ted Knight character. Like a lot of these in this thread, the delivery is what likely sold it (tho I laughed pretty strongly anyway)…
Just now, reading this thread. It actually happens to me quite a bit on this message board.
Many episodes of Married With Children have had us rolling on the floor helpless with laughter. The episode that stands out in my mind was Peg forcing Al to have sex, and they cut to old black and white footage of a variety of machines - ICBM missles launching, oil derricks pumping away, and a closeup of a washing machine agitator churning away to beat the band…wish I could find that on the youtubes!
My mother called me one afternoon with some hot gossip and told me the (unmarried) 50’ish woman across the street had been ‘entertaining’ a 20 young man. And they had been caught in the very act by the woman’s 35 year old son, who stopped by and just walked in the door as usual. This doesn’t sound particularly funny (though it is sit-commish) but when I heard this I went into a laughing fit - could not stop laughing - for 5 minutes straight and had to hang up until I could breathe again.
My mom, age 82, thought Borat was the funniest thing she had ever seen in her entire life, and that includes “those jackasses on MTV”. She is looking forward to Bruno. Mom thinks this is a great time to be alive, entertainment-wise.