Category Archives: laughter
the stories that make me laugh out loud every time
LOL – t-bar’d
another installment of the Love Of Laughter list is way overdue. i’ve found, unfortunately, that the majority of the laugh-out-loud-moments on The List are truly of the “you had to be there” nature. i’ve got a few more that i’ll share here, though, and new moments are being added to The List all the time. hopefully this short story will being you a laugh.
i was engaged in one of my most favorite activities: riding the snowy slopes of colorado. it was later in the day and we had worked our way to one of the higher peaks on the far side of the resort, where the only lift to the the top is something called a “t-bar.” for those unfamiliar, this is basically a series of bars shaped like an upside down “T” hanging from the moving cable, rather than chairs. The bar pulls you along the surface of the snow on your skis or snowboard.
the ideal method is simple: grab the next approaching bar when you reach the front of the line, nestle it between your legs with the arms of the “T” in place under your butt cheeks, and hang on. the bars have a retractable feature that allows them to stretch to accommodate the appropriate height for the individual using it, then recede back into place so it won’t drag the ground when unoccupied. as soon as there is no longer weight on the bar, it draws back to it’s initial position.
now that we all understand the rough mechanics of a t-bar lift, on to the funny-ness. as my group waited our turn in line, we couldn’t help but notice a boisterous group of 20-something guys just behind us who were doing what guys do: ribbing each other mercilessly and laughing hysterically. they actually kept us quite entertained, and the wait went by quickly. when it was almost our turn, i happened to overhear the couple in front of us discussing the proper way to mount the lift…in increasingly urgent tones.
now, we’ve just learned that using a t-bar is as simple as taking a seat in a chairlift, but because most people haven’t used a surface lift since ski school when they were seven (if that), the unfamiliarity can be intimidating. and the non-chair lifts in the less-trafficked areas don’t always have lifties to coach you through the process.
the man moved forward first, cautiously grasped the bar, and tucked it under his backside. only, i think he must’ve put it to one side instead of between his legs, because he got turned sideways. once his skis were perpendicular to the direction the lift was moving, he got jerked right off! he toppled forward forcefully and face-planted in the snow a few feet above the start of the lift.
at this point the raucous group of guys is hooting and pointing at the poor embarrassed man lying face-down with his skis in the air, and my group is trying in vain to suppress our laughter. the commotion didn’t register for the fallen man’s partner, though. she was concentrating so intently on her own execution of the t-bar technique that she didn’t notice his misfortune until she was nearly on top of him, at which point she abandoned her bar and jammed her poles this way and that in an attempt to avoid crashing into him.
this is where it gets good. to add insult to injury, the woman’s released bar, which was loaded with tension from being pulled out to it’s fullest extent while she sat on it, sprang back into place via the man’s location on the ground. he lay there, prone, while the bar shot forward and smacked him hard on the backside! the roar from the group behind us drew the attention of everyone in line. they were freely razzing the humiliated skier as if he were one of their own, now.
“oh! you just got spanked!”
“hope that snow numbed your pride, dude.”
“um, the idea is to plant your a** on the bar, not the other way around.”
“don’t just lie there like a moron, man!”
(in response to his friend) “what would you do, dimwit? the worm?!”
if we weren’t already in fits of giggles from the scene unfolding in front of us, we certainly were doubled over from the peanut gallery behind us. by the time the shamed pair collected themselves and retreated to the bottom of the hill, we were breathless from the high altitude hilarity.
i don’t usually enjoy laughing at someone else’s expense if they’re not joining in the glee, but sometimes the situation makes it nearly impossible to keep a straight face.
image via teara.govt.nz
LOL – no laughing matter
it’s hard to imagine a Love Of Laughter story emerging from a scene that delivered the worst news of my life, but that’s just what this is. the fact is, it elicits a burst of laughter even now, even when i recall it in the hardest of moments… so for what it’s worth, it fits the bill.
the setting is mom’s last appointment with the team of doctors at the NIH. the ultimate outcome of that meeting was learning that their experimental drug combo was having no effect whatsoever on mom’s cancer, proven by the growth in her tumors during the treatment time. but before we all forget that this is a LOL post, i’ll get to the funny part. the really hilarious part.
the clinical trial fellow bearing the news was the sweet, soft-spoken dr. lee – a tall, beautiful korean woman whose sparkly gold toenail polish poked fun at her ultra-intellectual demeanor. i assumed that dr. lee was absolutely perfect at everything based on our experience with her up to that point. i was wrong.
in order to help us understand the results of mom’s scans, she resorted to the same technique as many a doc before her – a sketch. only it was immediately clear that dr. lee must’ve struggled in elementary art class. she proceeded to draw a large circle with two ovals hovering inside toward the top of the circle. i presumed these were to represent mom’s body and lungs. i’m not sure where her other vital organs disappeared to, but since the lungs were our biggest concern at the moment, i let it slide. and then, ah, yes, the addition of stick legs and arms and shrunken faceless head confirm my suspicions. we are now looking at something similar to this:
at this point i’m a little giggly at the drawing, but maybe i’m just anxious. and then she sends me over the edge. the good doctor adds a feature to indicate which is the left side and which is the right (because it’s not like a mirror…it’s like you’re standing behind the person…which might explain the absence of a face…nevermind).
the distinguishing feature is obvious: mom had only one remaining breast. so dr. lee carefully traces the single breast into the drawing–without her narration i wouldn’t have been able to identify the foreign object–affixing a half moon squarely between the spindly arm and pea head.
it was all i could do not to snort out loud, looking at mom’s little character with a boob on top of her shoulder, larger than her head, attached to a balloon of a body! i glanced at dad, who i swear cracked a grin, and had to work even harder to maintain my composure. this is a replica of the final masterpiece (minus the ominous inky blobs that dr. lee added throughout the picture after that):
doctor lee may not have been the best artist, but she did us an unintentional favor by bringing some levity to an otherwise humorless situation.
p.s. i can’t deny that this may have influenced my comical view of the sketch:
now that’s something to laugh aloud at!
LOL – our dog is not a jock
cooper is the canine george-michael bluth. at least when it comes to games of catch. i’d like to pretend that he’s been influenced by episodes of arrested development repeatedly playing on the television, but i’m under no delusions that cooper learned his flinch-and-duck reflex from studying michael cera.
nope, our playful pooch is an aggressive athlete in many arenas, but when an object – any item, small or large, soft or hard – flies in his direction…he’s a wimp. even when it’s a toy. a toy that you’re both playing with. a toy that he is springing up and down for. toss it his way, and he dodges it like it’s on fire.
i’m not kidding. he could be drooling over a treat in your hand and flee from it the minute if leaves your grip in a slow, soft lob. the very thing that he was just a nanosecond prior begging for with those big puppy eyes is instantly the most terrifying threat known to doggie-kind. it makes me laugh out loud every time.
this absurd response is almost the only reason the dog will break a stay command. cooper will stay put for ages, even if you forget about him (er, i mean, not that i would know that) he will still be waiting expectantly for you to release him. unless you flip a treat toward him – then “stay” is a dim memory.
i think a game of frisbee in not in his future.
i’m going to try to get it on video, but until then, view the original “cower instead of catch” move:
LOL – cherry limeade knockout
in order to enjoy this LOL story from The List, we’re going to work through an unconventional set up process. i think the incident is funniest when visualized in real-time, but so much happened in the matter of approximately 1.2495 seconds, that i’m going to need to explain the details slowly at first. then, once we can all envision the action sequence, we’ll go through it again real fast. okay? great.
so, it was a typical weekday afternoon after high school, and The Boy i was dating had met me at the drive-in joint for what we here in oklahoma refer to as a “coke date” (but you don’t actually have to order a coca-cola, or even a soda for that matter…oh, nevermind).
as we stood on the curb saying our see-ya-laters, sipping on styrofoam cups of fizzy refreshment chilled by perfect ice (some of you know what i mean), The Boy reached in for a goodbye hug. we embraced in the same way that we always fit together: his arms around my waist and mine around his neck.
if you’re keeping track, this placed his drink behind my back. when we pulled away, my arms were moving down toward my sides as his (transporting said beverage) traveled around from behind me, naturally. inevitably, my descending elbow tagged the hand holding the cup and knocked it loose from his grasp. it was presumably still precariously clutched by a few fingers, as evidenced by his lurch forward to attempt a save.
at the same moment that The Boy was lunging toward his falling drink, i comprehended that my elbow was connecting with something foreign and jerked my arm back in the opposite direction. yes, toward his face. which was itself rapidly advancing toward my fist.
my punch connected so solidly with his jaw that his forward momentum was immediately reversed, sending he and his beverage flying in opposite directions. i was left standing there, the lone survivor in the short lived battle, holding my drink in the non-violent hand and my mouth hanging open in surprise.
so let’s replay that without the slo-mo, shall we? are you ready? read as fast as you can: sweet hug…elbowjab-suckerpunch-TKO! to put it in comic book terms, because that’s what the sequence most resembled, would go something like: “aww…BAM! POW! ZAP!”
if you’re wondering, he didn’t dump me after i flattened him with a blindside blow. but now i’m wondering if it’s because he was sweet and understanding, or scared that i would beat him up.
LOL – meet your match, cooper
the other day, lee and i were wistfully reminiscing about the time, not so long ago, when our “baby” was just a tiny, adorable, energetic pup. he’s still adorable and energetic, just not so tiny anymore.
lee made me snort my soda when he recalled our absurd nightly routine in the weeks following cooper‘s homecoming: after work we would feed an eager pup and receive oodles of wet doggie kisses, play and cuddle on the floor, ooh and aww at how he was the “cutest puppy in the world” …then stick a matchstick in his backside. yes, you read that right. there was a time when preparing for bed meant getting out a box of matches and… well, let me explain.
you see, these first few weeks of living with our new canine companion also came with a morning routine: rolling out of bed and farkling over who was going to wash the dog and who would clean the kennel, not yet knowing which would be filthier. cooper could not seem to make it through the night without desecrating his bed with wet, smelly poo, no matter how early we got up. the odorous excrement didn’t seem to offend him, though, because he was just fine rolling around in it while he slept and ensuring the stuff was smeared everywhere. niiiiiice!
the problem was, we couldn’t get him to “go” before bed. he wasn’t yet familiar with his new surroundings, and was so skittish at the things-that-go-bump-in-the-night that he would hardly venture a toenail off the back porch before scampering back inside, despite our efforts to illuminate the entire area with giant mag-lites. this lack of bedtime bathroom break meant that his tiny bowels had to be emptied in the middle of the night, even though his bed was not the appropriate location.
in desperation, i called our friend and dog trainer to beg for advice. misti immediately recommended that we “match him.” huh? maybe some of you have heard of this technique or even used it before, but when i initially heard the suggestion that we insert a matchstick in the dog’s anus, i was horrified. envisioning nighmarish scenes in which we violated our precious pooch by forcing a burning stick into his nether region, i reluctantly asked for more details.
i was was relieved to discover that no flame was involved, in fact, only the very tip of a well lubed, conveniently sized stick would be in use. she explained that the issue was cooper didn’t feel any sense of urgency, so he was not compelled to relieve himself. the matchstick simply expedited the process by simulating the “gotta go” sensation. motivated by the possibility of a solution to our dreaded wake-up call, lee and i decided to give it a try.
of course, my tough husband couldn’t stomach the dirty work, so he won the job of soothing the head end of our pet while i defiled the business end. (although this did mean cooper was looking at lee when he experienced the betrayal of his trust.)
as wrong as it seemed, it actually worked! we led our match-wielding puggle to the back door, his pug’s tail curled back displaying the evidence of our scheme. and sure enough, he circled a few times, assumed the position, and pooped!
our manipulation of cooper’s BMs lasted only a few weeks before he wised up. just the rattle of the matchbox would send him fleeing to the door with his curly tail straightened out and tucked protectively between his hind legs. the method had effectively taught him not only to “take a break” before bed, but to do it outside!
while lee and i are more than thankful that stage is over, we will always laugh remembering the dung mines in the yard flagged with little matchsticks, and our regular conversations that leapt straight from “aww, isn’t he cute?” to “yeah, now let’s match his ass!”
LOL – guess you had to be there
okay, i have to admit: this LOL blogging thing is harder than it sounds. choosing a story to expound on is proving to be more challenging than expected. while The List is long, the majority of the funnies really do seem to require an element of having-been-there in order for the RE-telling to hold any power of amusement. sometimes the punch in the punchline relies on knowing the personality of the source or experiencing the atmosphere of a moment. required attendance, perhaps. allow me to offer some examples:
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i could describe in detail the surprised reactions of the passengers on the plane as i followed my brother down the aisle to our seats and he successively bopped each of them in the face with the huge pillow 
strapped to his backpack. i can even tell you how trying to suppress my snickers in front of the blindsided victims silenced me to wheezing laughter, and how i couldn’t catch my breath to tell him to stop, and how that in itself made me laugh harder because it allowed the fluffy attack to continue. but even if i could show you a picture of his bewildered face when we finally arrived at our seats and he turned to find me redfaced and breathless and unable to articulate what was so hysterical, you’d probably not be as entertained as i am right now, holding my cramping sides from uncontrollable giggles.
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i bet you would at least smile at reading about my sister’s strategy to keep a class of tiny tap dancers from driving her insane with incessant clacking of little feet during instruction. (“stand completely still! sit on your bottoms and try to touch your feet to your ears! lie flat on your bellies!!“) but even if i had the advantage of acting it out in front of you, you’ll likely never find it comical enough to provoke the involuntary snorts that i react with when recalling her tell it.
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i can carefully recount the entire evening that led up to the scene of my cousin john crouched near the toilet bowl with a bottle of bleach, a plunger, and wishing for a nose plug. i could introduce his dry sense of humor in hopes of translating his deadpan delivery of this priceless summation: “just so long as everyone enjoyed their chili…” but it’s virtually impossible for me to convey the utter hilarity of the moment without pages of background.
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so you see, the probability of me sitting at my computer in hysterics while my stories fall miserably flat on your screen is quite high. but i’ll keep casting them out there, because even if you periodically shake your head perplexed at my giddiness, hopefully you’ll catch a chuckle one in a while.
