I know that I’m not the only one who is occasionally stuck by a thought so amusing that it makes me laugh. So it’s time to fess up to yours
As is often the way with these sorts of things, not all of the thoughts are funny to others, or even make sense. I actually took this one to be a sign I was over tired, but I’m still somewhat amused days later (which may be an indication that I’m losing my mind but whatever).
I was doing nothing in particular when the thought of the gameshow network crossed my mind. I suddenly imagined a wonderful gameshow I could create- one with triva questions so vague that they could not be answered correctly. Imagining hapless contestants faced with such questions- without any elaboration- as " What color would it be?" or " Guess a square" still makes me giggle.
Ok, who else has goofball thoughts, and what are they?
I have goofball thoughts all the time. Unfortunately, I can’t tell you any of them, since they are usually so inane that they pass right through my mind. They make me giggle, and then are lost in the mists of time.
However, I think it is great that you have them. I might be wrong, but I think that they keep me sane. Some people might differ. (In regards to my sanity, that is.)
Just today, I was at Downtown Disney. I saw a Wetzel’s Pretzels and thought (out loud):
[great thought]
How cheap! I’ll bet there really wasn’t a guy named Wetzel. I’ll bet some stupid corporate executive (whose name was something much boringer (yes, it’s a word, don’t argue) than Wetzel (like maybe Bob)) just made it up because it rhymed. But what if there was a Wetzel? :dubious: And what if he really wanted to sell ice cream, but Bob the Stupid Corporate Executive told him to sell pretzels just because it would rhyme? Poor Wetzel.
[/great thought]
This is embarrassing, because it imvolves ANZAC Day (thing Remembrance Day in the US - which we have too), and ANZAC Day deeply moves me, and always has. Yet, in high school, one of my mates noticed that it was possible to meld the mournful bugle of The Last Post with the rather different feel of “Also Sprach Zarathustra”. So, after the solemn first notes: Da-da-daaa… da-da-daaaaaaaa", instead of “da-da-d’d’da…da-da-d’d’da”, I mentally intoned “da- DAAAAAAA!!! Boom boom boom boom…”
I still feel bad about that. And I was, deservedly, hauled out of the assembly hall by one of the masters.
I’m constantly cackling at something or other that I make up in my head. I have a friend (admittedly, she is clinically insane) who laughs hysterically at the mere implication of the phrase “Don’t f*ck with Texas,” and because of her, I generally laugh at the notion too. I also like the idea of cubic bread, bright orange pasta, and baklava sold in packages designed to look like a core sample.
One day I took a bunch of yellow Mike and Ike candies and stuck them on my upper teeth to make myself look, well, like I had yellow Mike and Ikes for teeth.
Then I walked up behind my husband and asked for a kiss. Poor guy screamed. I still laugh hysterically when I think of that.
Visiting a friend in Texas, I looked off to the right when driving south on the highway and thought ‘Gee, I didn’t know Texas Instruments was down here.’ :dubious:
And along a similar vein, I’d just completed crossing the great Salt Lake en route to Lake Tahoe and was a ‘Morton Salt’ sign and had an equally brilliant deduction.
I constantly giggle at my own thoughts. For instance, just now I had a memory that made me chuckle.
The visual image of my mom eating a carrot (and spittiing bits of carrot spittle) while complaining about how the cat pissed on something. “It was soaked with cat piss!”, She’d holler in outrage, spitting out bits of carrot.
It’s funny. Really. You had to be there. (And she did this more than once. She eats a lot of carrots and those cats piss a lot.)
My friend rescued a stray cat. The cat, Chester, is half the size he should be due to lack of food during development. Further, he had horrific infections in both eyes when she found him.
The vet was able to eliminate the infections. However, Chester is nearly blind. He’s actually done very well since she took him in. A stranger would have to look at his eyes to see the problem.
Every now and then, I say we should get him a seeing eye dog.
The image of tiny, little Chester walking on his hind legs and grasping the square handle on the dogs collar with one white paw always gets me giggling.
