I recall another, more recently, reading the “Cookies” short story to my sons for bedtime from Frog And Toad Together. That whole thing had us busting our guts.
I love laughing and do so often, but rarely for very long. Not sure why. Life isn’t as funny as it used to be now that I’m 40 and have responsibilities and money stress issues related to them.
hmm…I am 50 and I laugh all the time. I enjoy laughing and I think it keeps one young. And there are so many great things to laugh at especially now with web access. If I am ever feeling down I just go to YouTube and type in Bad American Idol constestants and I am laughing my ass off within minutes. Or type in Laughing Guy and that is pretty damn funny too. There is that one guy at a comedy show who had the comic in hysterics and he had to give up the show. I am smiling just thinking about it–something about someone laughing is pretty contagious.
But outside of that, my wife and I along with our daughter are always laughing at stupid things that happen. Maybe I am just easily entertained but I find plenty of things to laugh about all the time. But life is too short to be too serious, enjoy it and crack a smile now and then and things go easier in my opinion.
Last night reading this
Someone sent me a video of a mother and four infant quadruplets laying on a bed. Dad’s filming and they get all four babies (and mom and dad) just giggling thier little heads off. They’re waving thier little arms and legs and laughing up a storm.
I just lost it. And I’m not one that is usually amused by “cute kid” stuff.
Watching the movie Borat, the scene where he wrestles the fat guy naked and then they run down into a convention in the hotel while they are still naked.
I wound up in the hospital when I was 16 weeks pregnant with severe abdominal pain. We bypassed triage and wound up in a dark little room waiting for the nurse to find fetal heart tones. She tried for way, way too long without finding anything and I was freaking out and bawling and stressed out and scared and Ben was next to me holding my hand and telling me everything would be okay.
So the nurse finally left and a PA came in and found the heart beat right away but I was still in a lot of pain and the anxiety from waiting and then subsequent relief from hearing the FHT exhausted me. I had to wait some time for the radiologist to get there and the present staff had left to get some morphine so Ben was digging around in cabinets and shelves and stuff.
I turned my head toward him and said “Hey, what are you doing?” just as he opened a cabinet. He pointed in and was like “Oh, look! They have tam-poons!”
I laughed and laughed and it hurt so bad but I couldn’t stop. It was great stress relief.
It was years ago, in (of all places) an H&R Block office.
The guy on duty this particular taxing occasion was a solemn and dignified elderly gentleman of Indian descent, with the wonderful name of C.U. Mehta.
C.U. was intent on digging deeply into our pitiful finances to find us all possible deductions, a difficult matter since we had little income and no investments to speak of. It was the most interminable tax session we’d ever experienced, and each time we thought C.U. had run dry, he came up with more questions. Finally he was finished (we thought), there was a long pause…and back he came with another improbable suggestion. (note: as partial justification for what was to follow, I had developed a bad Bill Haley & The Comets earworm, as in “C.U. Mehta Alligata”). I glanced helplessly at Mrs. J., she began giggling, that set me off, and we went into a folies à deux laughing binge that has not been duplicated before or since (Mr. Mehta sat there looking at us with an expression of offended disbelief). Finally, tears streaming from my eyes, I had to excuse myself to regain composure.
Tax season has never again been such fun.
Probably when Patton Oswalt did his skit about 70 year olds getting pregnant.
That or one of Andrew Hussie’s youtube TNG edits.
The first time she started doing this, before we started taking video of it.
She was sitting on my lap while I was reading the front page of Yahoo, and she saw Bill Clinton and started saying “Papa!” Her grandpa does resemble Clinton a little bit. So we were laughing that she thought Bill Clinton was grandpa, and then we realized how much “Papa” really sounds like “Bubba,” and lost it.
Yesterday during the softball game I was playing in. Our team is absolutely horrible, even by the standards of the Noncompetitive Jewish co-ed league that our team belongs to. We lost our first two games 23-2 and 23-1. Anyway, yesterday we couldn’t even get our shit together enough to put the correct number of fielders on the field one inning–we only had eight fielders despite needing ten. I was laughing so hard in the bench area I couldn’t even go onto the field to play. Luckily a couple other teammates on the bench entered the game.
George Carlin in his prime. Had trouble breathing (me, not him).
Best one liner though was a Red Skelton performance not too many years before he passed away. He told the same joke twice later and the crowd got really quiet. Everybody thought he had forgotten he already told it. He played the pause well and then said “gotch ya”.
A couple of weeks ago I bought a CD by a standup comedian named Kyle Kinane and there are a few stories and comments on there that had me laughing my ass off after several listens. I’d say I was laughing uncontrollably after each of these:
[ul]
[li]He says he’s an insomniac and describes what it’s really like by telling a story about how he spent of one night trying to figure if he could barbecue meat by firing it out of a cannon over an active volcano.[/li][li]He got himself a big digital alarm clock to make sure he got up, but it just makes him feel bad. “8:00 a.m. on a digital alarm clock just looks like the word ‘BOO.’”[/li][li]The best part is his story about his expired forklift driver’s license. I’m trying not to spoil it but it involves trying to play the motor of the forklift like a musical instrument and replicate a Beach Boys song. I assure you this doesn’t do it justice.[/li][/ul]
The CD is called Death of the Party. It’s excellent.
Today, I read this. It’s a Hyperbole and a Half blog post about finding out your dog is retarded. It was funny enough on its own.
Only, I have a seriously stupid dog. Part of the reason that post was so funny to me is that my dog also flops on the ground when she doesn’t know what else to do and licks the carpet (and the chair and the bed and any surface she’s near…). So I had to look up those tests and do them on my stupid dog. The cup/treat test: failed. The name test: failed. The look at her and smile test: failed. failed, failed, failed. So I got to the blanket test (you put a blanket or towel over the dog’s head and shoulders and see how long it takes them to free themselves) and I was SURE she’d pass that. I mean, she couldn’t be THAT dumb, right?
So I put the blanket over her head and started the timer and waited. And waited. And she just stood there. By about second 5 I started to laugh. By second 20 I was trying not to pee myself. By the time she went 60 seconds (the maximum) and had just walked a few feet away with the blanket still over her head, I could hardly breathe. it turns out she really is an extremely stupid dog.
Awww, poor dog. She sounds just like the Dog Time dog.
For me, it was a few months ago when I had dinner with my best friend’s family. Her sister is one of the funniest people I’ve ever met, and she had me laughing at the dinner table so hard my face was scrunched up and I was crying. I don’t even remember what she said now, but she can tell a story about the most mundane thing and make it pee-your-pants hilarious.
PS. I just read that Hyperbole and a Half post and must change my answer to that. That poor retarded dog…
Couple of years ago at a medics’ ball with my wife and a couple of friends.
One of the lads we were with is a very funny guy, and totally unafraid to speak his mind. He went off on a rant about something, and in the end my wife and I were helpless with laughter.
I have a few friends who used to reduce me to helpless laughter but sadly I rarely get to see them any more. It’s on my list of things to remedy in the next year and I really miss laughing fit to bust.
One evening, with friends, we started reminiscing about VIZ “top-tips” and someone had the bright idea of firing up the web-site to read a few off.
After the first half dozen we could barely get the words out for laughing and I twice snorted very strong Belgian beer down my nose.
Good times!
Like ppth and her man, we laugh a lot, and often like fools. I am definitely the one who laughs longer and loudre; he is a serious fellow, but sometimes I get him started, too.
I laughed uncontrollably just last night, over some story he was telling me, as a matter of fact.
I laugh uncontrollably all the time. This morning at this:
My boyfriend wanders around the house in his boxers all the time, and I have to be ever-vigilant about stealing his worn out underwear and throwing it out, otherwise he’ll never notice and there’ll be holes everywhere and it’ll be like taking the organs out of the turkey every day.
A week ago, maybe, I spotted a patch of bare ass and said, “Look, you, there’s another great big hole in your… BWAHWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” He had his boxers on backwards.
First time I ever saw Jim Gaffigan’s Hot Pockets bit.
Saw him live in Toronto a year or two ago, and he was awesome. I distinctly remember thinking at one point that I had to get a hold of myself, or I’d throw up.