Pajiba

One of my friends was lying face up by the foot of an extremely tall coconut tree when suddenly a bunch of coconuts fell straight down on his face. After we made sure he was alive we just about died laughing.

As I'm a germaphobe, this is perfect for a weekend where I'm hiding from humanity infected with n1h1. Keep them coming and wash your fucking hands!

When I was about 7 years old I was dicking off in a booth at this buffet restuarant. Well I slipped and my chin got caught on the table and I was to short push myself up with my legs. So I kinda just hung there for a minute while my mother and sister laughed so hard at me my mom got a bloody nose.

Recently at a wedding, I saw my male friend dancing the macarena. The way he knew every single move, the enthusiasm he put into it, the way he wiggled his hips, I couldn't talk for about 30 minutes from laughing so hard.

York pulled the towel off her face, which proceeded to smack right into Terry's ass.

Priceless.

Posted by: Agent Scully at October 24, 2009 3:50 PM

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AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

I have taught dog agility classes for many years. I've had students ranging in age from 11 years old to over 70 years old. In agility, it's only the *dogs* who need to be agile, fortunately.

One night, my elderly student was working with his very difficult dog, a 40lb headstrong Chow mix. They were running a course and she veered off and cut across his path at the last second. I was certain he was going to collide with the dog, or at the very least fall while trying to avoid crashing into her. Visions of shattered hips, canine and human, appeared before my eyes.

But that's not what happened. My 70-year-old student did a freaking cartwheel over his dog. It was the craziest impromptu physical stunt I've ever seen, and it worked. I will never forget the sight, and I'm really glad I had witnesses because otherwise I might suspect my sanity was slipping.

This is turning out to be my favourite Weekend Comment Diversion ever - I'm already nearly dead from laughter (Agent Scully in the lead) and it's early yet...

When I was fifteen, my best friend's family and I were staying at a nice hotel in San Francisco because we were flying out of SFO in the morning. She and I went exploring the hotel and found the gym room. As it was late at night, it was completely deserted, so we proceeded to play around on the gym equipment. When we got to the treadmills, we were playing around with the speed and seeing how fast it would go. I somehow goaded my friend into standing on the sides of the treadmill, and turning it up to full speed. She then propped herself on her arms and hovered over the speeding belt and as she attempted to lower herself at running speed, she was only able to make a few skipping strides before the belt grabbed her feet and slammed back off of the treadmill. There was only about two feet of space between the back of the treadmill and the wall, and she was all kind of curled up in there with her face practically on the speeding belt, and her hair in danger of being ripped out, and I was laughing so hard I barely made it to the emergency stop button. To this day I can barely make it through that story because I start laughing so hard. It's funny to watch someone fall off a treadmill on tv; it's funnier to watch my best friend do it because she listened to my silly suggestions even though I knew what the likely outcome would be.

Also, I used to work for the state health department. I was just an administrative assistant, but when the swine flu scare started really getting off the ground, I was volunteered for the H1N1 phone bank (be forewarned, it's pretty likely anyone at your local health department on the other end of the phone when you call for info has about as much medical training as yours truly). I did eventually get a ridiculous amount of info about H1N1 and the regular seasonal flu, but on my first day they just put me on the phone and wished me luck.

The hysteria centered around a mild flu when the regular flu is more likely to fuck you up has had me giggling for months. I have yet to figure out why this one gets all the panic when the flu every year kills so many people.

My favorite call was from a youth minister in Kansas. They had been planning a trip to the Oklahoma City mission and wanted to know if they should be concerned about catching the flu while they were in Oklahoma. At the time, Kansas had more than 20 confirmed cases while Oklahoma still only had 6. I told him that maybe he should be more concerned about bringing the flu to us.

When I was a teenager my dad had a shih tzu. Being so small, it was easy to play fetch inside the house. The dog particularly liked chasing a tennis ball down the main hallway of the house.

At one time my step sister comes to visit with her 3 or 4 year old son. My step-nephew is utterly delighted with this game of throwing the tennis ball down the hall for the dog. After watching us a few times he gets in his head to try it himself.

He grabs the tennis ball and does as big a wind-up as he can muster, and chucks the tennis ball as hard as he can. And misses the hallway.

The tennis ball hits the wall next to the hallway, and bounces straight back, nailing the kid in the face and knocking him back on his ass.

It's hard to worry about a kid when you're laughing so hard. He himself was too stunned to even cry. He just kind of looked around like "What the fuck just happened?"

I'll probably be shut away in the doghouse for telling this one, but here goes...

My daughter is now one years old, and has been mobile (i.e. walking on her own) for over two months. Very proud of herself and enjoys the freedom to explore, which I of course encourage. After a doctor visit, right at the start of her toddler life, I take her to visit her godmother at work. The building has a glass-front wall and door for the reception area, which is fairly wide, so there's lots of exploring room for the munchkin. The glass is tinted brown, which I discover means nothing to my girl, as she walks into it accidentally, knocking her head against it with a DONG! sound.

I immediately pick her up, hug and squeeze to calm her, and she doesn't cry so much as give a "What the heck was that?!?" squeal.

A few moments later, she's quiet and squirming, so I put her down, and, hand to God, bee-lines for the glass again!

DONG!

Both godmother and I are laughing our asses off, while she screams at the glass the equivalent of "WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO MUCH?!?"

One random night, a bunch of us got together to hang out at a friend's. She has two young nieces, so she keeps a lot of games and toys around for their visits.

One of the guys discovered Twister in the game box, and suggested that we play. Of course only the guys wanted to play, so five of them set up the mat and gathered around it.

Five minutes in, all the girls were cracking up as the guys jockeyed for position on the mat. Pete, who's known for sweating profusely, was arched over Dan's leg. Daniel protested as Pete's sweat dripped off his chin onto Dan's leg. "It's like Chinese water torture!" he complained.

"Right foot red!" I commanded.

As the guys all tried to find a free red spot, Chris lost his balance. After wobbling against the huddle of bodies for a second, he overcompensated and crashed down onto the hardwood floor and promptly rolled into the fireplace.

He lay there, dazed, as we all exploded into screamiing laughter. After our initial howls of mirth died down, Chris gathered his wits enough to say, "Wait... does this mean that I'm out?"

We didn't stop laughing for a long, long time.

When I was about 17 years old a group of my friends were hanging out at a friend's house (ditching school, of course) while his parents weren't home. This friend had a grandma who left a spare oxygen tank and wheelchair at the house for when she would visit. Naturally, we all inhaled some oxygen and came up with a brilliant plan. We chose the smallest of our friends, he was (and still is) about 5'6" and super skinny, as the lackey for our plan. We all drove him to the nearest 7-11 where he got in the wheelchair and sucked on his oxygen tank and asked to buy cigarettes. The attendant only turned him down because he was underage. And probably because he saw a group of 5 teenagers laughing their asses off. The image is still funny to this day!

Long long ago, I was working at this shitty gas station job when a guy comes through the door, looks over at me with "hey, baby" eyes, then proceeds to strut to the fountain pop machine in the back. He fills up the biggest cup available, then struts and swaggers back up to the front, maintaining perfect come-hither eye contact the whole way.

Ten feet away from where I'm standing at the cash register, one of his feet catches on a floor mat, and bam! Flat out on his face, forty-four ounces of Coke flung in every direction. I was laughing so goddamned hard, I couldn't even talk or look at him, let alone function properly for at least ten minutes. I had to go sit in the beer cooler for a while.

The guy beat a hasty and red-faced retreat. Poor klutzy dude, hopefully he's since learned the lesson about being able to laugh at your own ridiculousness. As far as I'm concerned, that quality is far more attractive than cheesy glances and cocky walks.

Oh, I've got a good one. I might have told this one on Pajiba before. It's not going to make you laugh, but it's the hardest I've ever laughed in my life.

A good friend of mine is a big movie fan. But he doesn't just like good movies; he seems to love bad movies even more. So, he was in town for a week, and we saw a few movies at the theater: Collateral, The Corporation, and completing the "C" motif was Catwoman. Yes, I paid money to see Catwoman at the theater. I didn't want to go, but he begged me, saying that I was the only one who would possibly be willing to go with him. So, I gave in.

It was three weeks or so into the movie's theatrical run, and it was about a 10 p.m. showing in the middle of the week. As you can probably imagine, the theater was next to empty. We sat in the front of the stadium seating section with our feet propped up on the railing. A few others came in, and my friend asked them how serious they were about a pristine theater experience. They weren't serious at all.

The two of us proceeded to MST3K the hell out of the movie from start to finish. I did feel bad, as a few others came in that we didn't talk to, but we tried to keep our volume down, and they didn't seem to mind our behavior. We had these running jokes (my two favorites involved Toonces The Cat and the fact that Sharon Stone's use of "Beauline" gave her a face like living marble) and just couldn't stop laughing at ourselves throughout as we went to them again and again. It was the absolute best time I've ever had at a movie theater.

Then, after the movie ended, as we walked back to the car, we found that we couldn't say a single word without laughing. Whenever we caught our breaths, five seconds of silence was all it took for us to start laughing again. We laughed the entire 20-minute drive home. I had tears streaming down my face and was lucky I didn't get into an auto accident.

I wish I had a recording of everything we said, because it is simply impossible to recreate. There's a good chance we were laughing much harder than our own jokes deserved, but once we got rolling it was infectious and hilarious.

And that, my friends, is why there is a DVD copy of Catwoman on my shelf. I tried watching it again once, and it just wasn't the same.

Another one...this is something that actually happened to me instead of me just witnessing it.

A group of friends and I were having a house party and we had just run out of beer. We were debating who was going to go when in walks Thomas with a case of beer. Yay, he saved the day, right? Well as soon as he walked in I say "Thomas, beer me!" Thinking that he would have to open one of the cases in order to get me one. What I failed to notice was the beer that he was holding in his hand. He threw the beer to me, I swear to god I was staring straight at him and could not comprehend or react in time. The beer hit me square in the middle of the face, the bridge of my nose. Everyone in the room immediately started cracking up, as did I as soon as I was over the pain. Ended up with a slight black eye, and the friends still tease me about it.

Our school organized a game of kickball for us at this field nearby, and we went to play. The field was surrounded by a wire link fence and one of my friends decided to climb over it and jump down instead of walk, maybe 20 feet, around it to get the the field. He climbs, jumps, and makes it. Another one of my friends, a girl, decided to do the same. So she climbs, and sits on the fence, where she hesitates for awhile.

But then she jumps. Now I'm standing right next to her and I could tell, from the moment her ass left that fence, that she did not jump out far enough. And sure enough, she didn't. She was hanging off that fence by her shorts. And they were soooooo stretched out that you could see her entire underwear. She was hanging there for maybe two or three seconds before they ripped and she fell to the ground.

You cannot believe how hard it is to NOT laugh after something like that happens. She was still lying on the ground, with her ripped shorts covering her underwear. She was so embarrassed, and all I could think to say to make her feel better was, "Well ... at least you wore cute underwear today."

Jiffy, that story had me on the FLOOR!!! :D

BTW, I refuse to travel with those who have limited palates. To me, 90% of the travel experience is sampling local cuisine.

I went to Europe with a vegan this summer. He was loads of fun -- eating with him was a total drag.

***

Another funny story -- whilst hanging with a group of friends, the guys decided to have some sort of contest (that happens most of the time, actually). The would run towards an open door and try to jump-kick the top of the jamb.

As they were trying this, Dan (same guy from the story above) walked in. "What are you doing?" he asked, standing in the doorway. The guys explained the game.

"You mean kick the top like this?" he asked, standing under it and kicking straight up into the air. He's a big guy, but he's pretty flexible, and the sight of him doing a standing split to try and kick the top of a 6'8" doorjamb with his short Asian legs had us all dissolving into laughter.

After we all calmed down, he wanted to give it a real go. He backed up, measured the distance, took a deep breath, and ran towards the doorway.

Then he slipped on the weatherstrip and landed flat on his back before he even got off the ground. We all just about died.

Needless to say, the game was over.

Also!

As I was typing that out, a ComEd (electricity company ... does that exist outside of Illinois?) came to my apartment to do some free upgrades to make it more energy efficient, blah blah whatever. Anyway, he passed by my computer, looked at the monitor, and said,
"Oh, man! Pajiba! That shit is the MAD notes!"

And then we high-fived. Hand to God.

I was in seventh grade, on the shy side, considered one of the intelligent kids. Anyways i dropped my pencil on the floor and when i reached down to pick it up the loudest most hellacious fart erupted from my ass. I mean it felt like it literally tore the lining of my anus. Of course one of the hot girls sat right behind me. I was the laughing stock for the remainder of the day, I mean even the damn teacher was rolling. I ended up eventually having relations with the said hot girl behind me while in high school and she still remembered that. Life in a small town.

I'm coordinationally challenged. I think it has something to do with my eyesight being god-awful from age seven on, and my depth perception, night vision, and hand-eye coordination all suffer as a result. I've tried so many times to learn to drive a stick shift you just cannot even imagine, but the act of getting my hand, foot and eyes to all act in concert is less feasible than a hasty solution to the conflict in Gaza, so one by one everyone has given up hope.

But not my husband. Not because he loved me, or wanted to help me, or even because he wanted us to own a stick shift vehicle--no. He wanted to teach me how to drive a standard because he has an unblemished track record of teaching people how to drive a stick, and he wasn't about to let me mar his reputation.

So about five years ago, he and most of everyone else at Nextel lost their jobs in the merger with Sprint. He was doing contract labor up and down the Eastern Seaboard to make ends meet, and needed a grungy old work truck he could work his Telco magic out of. He settled on OJ's white bronco. I shit you not, there were even blood stains permanently coating the cracked vinyl interior, and a stick shift with an eight ball on top that wasn't securely attached.

I was unaware of that fact.

So one weekend when he was home, the Mister takes me out to a back road to teach me to drive this monstrosity, thinking there would be less traffic, but not taking into account that the depth and breadth of OJ's bronco would take up both lanes of the road. Then, as I'm creeping down the road, desperately trying to keep the bronco in between any two available lines, he has me shift into second without informing me of the dodgy eight ball which, of course, comes off in my hand.

I don't know what occurred in my mind right then, but I knew that the bronco, no matter how rusty and bloody it might be, was the only thing that bridged the gap between us and groceries. And when that eight ball came off in my hand, I stared at it like it was an oracle foretelling bankruptcy, poverty and ruin,writ large in glowing letters where the hole should've been, that said, "You're screwed." Because I was absolutely dead sure that I had just destroyed the transmission.

And I screamed. People, that scream came from the depths of my impoverished soul. I screamed so loud and so long my husband jumped like the soul of Nicole Brown Simpson had just rushed out of the glove box.

And then I realized that by staring at the eight ball, I was no longer looking at the road that I narrowly fit into. So I hurled the eight ball into the back of the bronco, grabbed that steering wheel like I was lifting off to the moon and screamed again.

After the initial shock, my husband was laughing so hard I thought he was going to wet himself.

On the plus side, he's finally given up trying to get me to drive a stick.

This is the story I wish I had been there to see.

When my gf was 17, she and her friend decided they wanted to go the casinos on the Mississippi Gulf (about 30 minutes away). Obviously, they weren't old enough.

But the friend is oddly gifted with makeup, especially special-effects makeup.
So they do "old lady" makeup, buy wigs. They buy old sagging dresses. They wear tank tops and biker shorts under the dresses, and those are filled out with pillow stuffing.

They test it out at the favorite local donut/coffee shop, and no one recognizes them. Deciding their costumes are a success, they head to the casinos.

And they get in! And they're playing slots. For almost an hour. And finally security comes up to them and hauls them off to the little security room. And as they're being taken away, they're crying out in their little old lady voices, "Oww, that hurts, sonny! Why you are picking on me?" The try to keep it up, and when the main security guy asks to see an ID, they dump out these giant purses full of tissues, pill bottles, and old candy (they were thorough). And finally they give up and say, "Ok, fine. You caught us." Thankfully, amazingly, security just tells them to go home.

And here's the part I wish I could have seen. Apparently, wearing pillow stuffing in South Mississippi in the summer is really, REALLY hot. So as they're walking out the door and into the parking lot, they both lift their dresses up and start pulling this fluffy material out. The people walking in to the casino didn't know what to think.

I bought a halter and leash for my cat, Pookie, because at the time we were living in a small town just outside the city, and I thought it would be nice to take him for walks once in awhile.

So I manage to fight him into the halter, after much squirming and carrying on. (The cat wasn't much better.) He finally realizes it's ON and that I'm done fighting with him.

He stands up, looks as though he's about to walk away, and promptly throws himself on the floor. I thought, ok, he's having a kitty temper tantrum. How cute. So I picked him up again and set him down on all fours. He took about 5 steps and threw himself on the floor again. I'm thinking what the hell? So I figure, well, I'll just let him have his little fit while I make a phone call, maybe when I'm done he'll be ready to go.

I'm sitting around the corner talking on the phone in the living room when I hear "thunk". "Thunk".... "THUNK" ..."thunk". I'm wondering what is going on, so I get up and peek around the corner into the kitchen.

Pookie is skittering around the kitchen, thudding into cabinets and walls. He takes a few steps, slams himself into something, gets up, runs full tilt, whacks into something else, bounces off, bangs his head on another wall... stands up, looks as though he's finally gotten it out of his system... takes 3 steps and literally launches himself into the side of a cabinet.

The person I was on the phone with thought I had lost my mind I was laughing so hard.

To this day, I don't know if Pookie was having a temper tantrum, or if the halter did something to knock his balance out of whack, or if it was a combination of both.

I still laugh just thinking about it.

Myysharona. 30 minutes from the Mississippi Gulf Coast? Are you from Wiggins?

Who cares!!! My boyfriend also agrees with me. He is 10 years older than me, lol. We met online at age-gap club -- http://AgelessOnly.COM/. Maybe you wanna check out or tell your friends.

Oh, god, I forgot about this one. Again, it didn't happen to me, but it's family legend. My uncle was at a zoo in California and he was looking at the tapirs. The thing is about 20 feet away, maybe more. My uncle is pissed to even be here in the zoo, but he's doing it for the kids. I don't think he had ever see a tapir because my aunt says that as soon as he saw it he went "Jesus, what the fuck is that thing?" One beat later, the tapir lets rip a stream of urine that shoots 20 feet. Right onto my uncle. I don't know if you've ever seen a tapir piss, but those things are like fucking water cannons. So, poor guy is standing there, no change of clothes, having jut been pissed on by the ugliest thing he's ever seen. My aunt says she herniated something that day.

I was walking back to my dorm with a group of friends after a late night at a nearby 24-hour McDonald's. We were walking along a narrow path lined by short, thorny shrubbery. I was on the far edge, and someone joked, "Don't fall into the bushes!" I immediately tripped and face planted into the bushes. The marks were on my face and arms for weeks. No one could keep a straight face when looking at me for weeks. Long, sharp fucking thorns, man.

I'm waiting for a flight in the Houston airport and over the loudspeaker I hear this: "Attention: if you left your ukelele in the men's bathroom near Gate B20, please come retrieve it." Don't know why I remember that, but it really cracked me up at the time....

Raye
No, we grew up in Slidell, LA.

Another story I wish I could have been there for:
My gf's brother was jogging around his college campus. He rounds a corner and there is a very large, irate goose. He tries to run around it, but the goose charges him and bites down directly on his nuts. So there he is flailing around with a goose attached to his nethers and the only way he could get it off was by punching the goose in the head. Someone saw him punching the goose (but not the reason why) and reported him to campus security. Where he had to explain, in detail, and many times, why he punched a bird.
To hear this story in person, complete with physical antics, puts me on the floor every time.

"Aaah....who else is drunk here?"

I am! Or at least I was. Man I wish I had a story to share here. Probably do, but can't remember right now.

I was on the phone at work one day arguing with the cable company. I was totally irate by the time I got off the phone. My friend Becca, a lesbian, who sat in the cubicle next to me asked me why I was so pissed. I told her I had been arguing with the cable company and she says "Oh my God I hate Cox!" Dead silence for about two seconds and then we all just cracked up. I was sitting on the floor laughing so hard I was crying.

Well, you could practically write a whole book about what happened to me. Bunny Bixler and I were in the semi-finals, the very semifinals, mind you, of the ping-pong tournament at the club and this ghastly thing happened. We were both playing way over our heads and the score was 29-28 and we had this really terrific volley and I stepped back to get this really terrific shot and I stepped on the ping-pong ball. Well, I just squashed it to bits. Then Bunny and I ran to the closet of the game room to get another ping-pong ball and the closet was locked. Imagine? We had to call the whole thing off. It was ghastly, it was just ghastly.

Got a bunch:

-The time my younger sister (I was about 11 at the time, she was 8) waltzed by the open front door of our house nude and waved gaily and smiled "Hello!" to trick or treaters that were getting candy for Halloween.

-My cousin Andrew was 5 when he kneeled on the wooden pew at my grandfather's Catholic funeral. The whole pew (no cushion or rug) flipped over and started a domino effect of pews crashing to the floor. All the relatives were crying and laughing at the same time.

-When I had the lead in a college play, did amazing, and when to take my solo bow at the end, and got cocky running onto the stage and my leg went through a riser. The audio catches an AV tech whispering "Jesus!" the second I go down.

-My uncle (when he was a teenager) trying to be cool at his older sister's outdoor birthday party, and waltzes past a bunch of girls, slips and falls directly into the septic tank. Firefighters had to come and get him out.

-Me playing kickball in fifth grade, kicking a line drive, and nailing my crush right in the nuts.

-My older cousins grabbing me and putting me in the trunk of the car, then doing donuts in the local parking lot and going over speed bumps. Every time I screamed and swore I could hear them laughing.

-My cousin Tim somehow managing when he was a toddler to get his bare foot caught in a metal grocery cart at the supermarket and the police having to blowtorch him out.

-My cousin Chris shaking a ketchup bottle so hard in a diner that he sprays people two tables away.

-My former hard partying cousin Liz, getting drunk at her best friend's birthday in college, they drunkenly have words, and Liz slams the cake into her friend's face.

-This is my dad's favorite: When he was a kid he was an altar boy at church. He was behind a partition with another altar boy and they were eating popcorn before services. A large windfan was on (it was summer) and they thought it would be funny to throw pieces of popcorn in front of the fan to make it blow around. They throw more and more (by now it's handfuls) until suddenly a priest angrily confronts them. The popcorn was being sucked into the fan, lifted over the partition, and being snowed onto a funeral mass.

As we were sitting on the porch talking, one of my roommates came riding on his bike. Another one of my friends says "Hey, I like you light flasher." Just as he says it, my roommate falls down on his bike. Rolling on the floor.

So, my first post. Exciting isn't it?

I'm torn between two stories.. I'll appreciate your help in deciding the tie-breaker.

First story takes us back to my college days, that's high school for those state-side. Say.. 13-14. It may help to pretend you're about that age to get the full funnies.
We had a marvelous class broadly named "life skills". I'm sure you all have an equivalent. This class is compulsory for a certain age bracket, and it dealt largely with sex and drugs, and how to do both properly.. The class clowns couldn't ask for better fodder.

Sex-ed Q&A time. We had all the desks pushed to the walls, and the chairs in a horseshoe arrangement, so everyone could see everyone getting embarrassed at once. The teacher (luckily a seasoned vet) was taking any and all questions about how to go bump in the night. Class Clown No.1, 'Vinnie', was that kid that for some reason knows -everything-, not just the basics, I mean stuff your grandparents haven't heard of. But I digress. He saved the big stuff for another day..

This time was much simpler, a kid who either was truly sheltered, or was lamely trying to get a rise out of the class, piped up with "Teach, what's masturbating?"
Giggles ensue.. nothing major.
"Well, that's when you..." -But teach was then interrupted by a very enthusiastic Vinnie.
"-LIKE THIS" And we all turn to see Vinnie making HUGELY exaggerated wanking motions. Giggles ensue.
Soon after, the giggles stop, yet he's still going. His chair is wobbling from the theatrics. Dead silence now, and he just keeps picking up the pace. He's making noises that fill the room. Everyone including the teacher is totally stunned. The front of his chair is even beginning to lift off the ground. Then... the magic happens: his chair is at the perfect balancing point between forward and backward, that point you spent hours of bored math classes trying to get to. A look creeps across his face that shows he knows he has one last chance to stop and regain his balance, and rejoin the horseshoe. Instead, oh instead, he feigns a violent, horrifying orgasm and the chair topples backward, sprawling him on the floor, and narrowly missing smashing his head into a nearby desk.
An eternity of completely shocked silence, and then people.absolutely.lose.their.shit.

It took a long time for order to return to that classroom.

I lied, I've now shut down the cinemas. I'm going to get drunk instead.

HAR.

Back in college my roommate was dating this wanker of a dude. So it as her birthday and we had a blow out party, but wanker of a boy friend isn't there. He finally shows up at 11:30, totally pissed. He was so drunk I was amazed he could stand. My flatmate is so mad that she refused to talk to him. After about 15 minutes she calms down, but her boyfriend is no where to be found, so she proceeds to do a shit ton of shots.
So the next day we are cleaning the flat when wanker of a boyfriend comes over. He is wearing the same cloths as the day before, and my flatmate goes off. She assumes he hocked up with someone else. So she is shouting all sorts of shit demanding to know where he was, but she is talking so fast he can't get a word in.
Finally she pauses to catch her breath, and he blurts "Jail, I was in jail!" My flatmate just stares at him like a poleaxed ox. At this point I burst out laughing. All the bitching I had to listen to from my flatmate, the shit storm she unleashed on her boyfriend, and then that look. It was priceless.
The best part of the story, turns out boyfriend felt so bad about being drunk that he went for a walk to sober up, but he was so pissed that he couldn't even walk strait. The cops stop him, and even though he isn't driving or anything, they decide he is to drunk to be safe, so they throw him in the drunk tank. The reason he was wearing the same cloths is cause he had come strait from jail to apologize. Boy did my flatmate feel stupid, and that just made me laugh the harder.

This picture.

I swear, it never gets old for me.

Other than that, my mom sent me a plushy Ren & plushy Stimpy for Christmas in what I'd guess was 1993 (I don't know if it's my life long metal fandom or just me, but I lose details at my age). The face that Ren had and the whoopee cusion in his belly so he'd fart when you squeezed him had me busting a gut for half an hour, solid.

I've probably seen funnier stuff, but I explained about the metal fandom, right? Is it possible to be a headbanger twenty-some-odd years long and not suffer neurologically?

During the holiday season about 10 years ago, I'm at a bar that has karaoke when "Vinny," an acquaitance from high school, takes the stage. I call him Vinny cuz he's a very stereotpyical 20-something Italian-American goomba, NJ accent included. (Think Christopher from Soporanos. In other words, not the kind of guy you'd expect to see doing karaoke. He precedes to honor the crowd of probably 200 (it's a big bar) with an unironic, lustily enthusiatic rendition of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town." He really tried to knock that baby out of the park, despite myself and a friend sitting 10 feet away and laughing ourselves breathless. to this day my friend and I will still bust out w/ "Rooty toot toots, and rummy tum tums" in our best CHristopher-from-Sopranos accents.

When I was 11 and my brother and sister were 8 (twins) we were in my moms room playing video games. My brother was on my mom's bed and found a lighter (my mom is an avid smoker). So my brother starts licking the lighter on and off UNDER THE COVERS on my moms bed. And then...whoosh! The blanket catches fire and I and my brother freak. My sister was like 'Whatever, I'm playing Duck Hunt.' Brother puts it out with a pillow, hides the giant burn hole with said pillow and says nothing to my mom. Later that day, she found it and my brother told her that 'I just snapped my fingers and it caught on fire!' My mom couldn't even say anything to that and my sister and I started laughing. It was just so funny. And now, at every Thanksgiving my sister and I tell that story while laughing hysterically and my mom gets PISSED. Good times.

I watched an obese rat terrier fall off a treadmill over and over and over. I think it was because her gut kept hitting the tread. This was one fat dog and I was glad to see the owner appreciated mocking the poor thing as much as I, the lowly dog walker, did.

Okay, zombie toddler wins for life. Thank you, Soda!

I was on a trip to Vegas this April (which a friend and I shouted ourselves to after a solid win on the GGs) from Melbourne, which is a decent trip.

We are in the second last row and there is a very nervous mother in the back row, asking our fairly effeminate hostie, 'is the back a safe part of the plane'?

The hostie merely cocks an eyebrow, before very drolly announcing to the rear third of the aircraft, 'planes don't reverse into mountains, honey'.

Great start to a ridiculously funny trip; this woman was so pissed.

I have two stories and they both involve my husband and heavy drinking. Both also occurred within the 1st six months of our marriage, so I should have known what I was in for.

1st story: One Saturday night, we had a girls night out/guys night out. All of the husbands/boyfriends went to a bar to watch football while us girls went to a mexican restaurant for food and margaritas. Now margaritas usually do a number on me, so I controlled myself and only had one. After the dinner, the plan was to meet up with the guys at the bar. Oh my. Apparently in the 2 hours we were gone, the boys went after the beer. They were ridiculously drunk. At the end of the night, I finally convince my husband to leave althought he was insistent on stuffing a 6 pack of beer in his pockets before we left. He stumbled out into the parking lot and promptly urinated on the car next to us (in full view of everyone at the bar). But the beauty of this story is what happens when we got home. Because he was such a mess when we got to the bar, I stopped drinking so that I could drive home. We get into the house, he toddles off into the bathroom and I pop open a much deserved beer. Suddenly, the bathroom door flings open and my husband lurches out butt-naked, looks me straight in the eyes (or as best as he can) and says "I'm going to hump you like you have never been humped before". The more I laughed, the more he said it. I sent him off to bed with promises of meeting him up there "in a minute".

2nd story: Again, my husband and I lived in the same apartment complex as our best friends at the beginning of our marriage. I used to work in retail and had to be up early sometimes on the weekend to go to work. I left a night of hanging out and drinking, so I could get some sleep. The next morning, my husband and my lab (he had taken his dog with us) had not made it home yet.. so I assumed he crashed on our friends' couch. About 8 AM, I hear the back door open and our lab comes in. The door closes, but no husband. Concerned, I walk out on our back patio. First let me explain that we lived in a townhouse with a tiny back patio and that our apartment was the party house. So we had mounds of trash and beer boxes on the pation (waiting on trash day). So, I open the back door and find my husband passed out in bags of trash. When I finally got him to answer, I asked what time he got home (thinking he had just walked back to our apartment - again it was 8AM). I get this feeble reply of - "midnight". He had slept on bags of trash with his poor dog for 8 hours, within arms reach of the back door. He just couldn't make himself come in, he had gone as far as he could.

Both are favorite stories of all of our friends...

When I was young, I hung out with a group of ubernerds (OK, I still do).

We had a reading group, and a group of teachers who would take us to the main library downtown for a better selection of books (we were in 7th grade, without a mass transit system).

Afterward we would usually get something to eat. We stopped at a near-by Blue Circle (long gone, long lamented small burger chain). While there, a drunk came in started talking to our teacher, calling him "Mr. Teacher Professor Sir", rambling about his life and daughter etc.

We were cracking up watching our teacher try to be polite, but getting more and more uncomfortable.

Then, the drunk leaned in and said as quietly as he could (that is, still loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear) "Excuse Mr. Teacher Professor Sir, but are those children retarded?"

We laughed so hard I thought I was going to pass out. Seriously, seeing stars.

8 or 9 years old, playing catch with my brother and father in a field behind my house. There is a rabbit a good 9 or 10 feet from me.

I, being the shit disturbing person that I am, decide to throw the ball at the rabbit.

I, with my complete lack of coordination, miss by a good 3 feet. Buttttt...

The rabbit sees the ball coming, takes of running and runs into the path of the ball. it hits him in the head, he flops around for 10 seconds, then expired.

So, I killed a rabbit with a baseball. Intentionally yet accidentally.

1 - In Camp, we often had a "mystery pen-pal" game. This one time, at Christmas Camp, one of the older dudes - he was about 16 or 17 - was supposed to be penpalling with this really hot mystery chick.

Since it was Christmas, we were all supposed to craft something for our penpals, and this guy crafted his "girl" an envelope containing a yellow sunflower.

So reveal time comes around, and the counselor who was calling out names calls out this guys name. He nervously stands up, walks to the front...and the counselor comes around from behind the table and stands in front of him, grinning, arms wide open. The look on the guy's face as his whole world shattered....priceless. The room nearly fell apart.

2 - But the funniest goddamn thing I ever saw was at a flute recital my baby sister was having with a few other kids from her music school. She had one of those tripod thingies to put the sheet music on in order to see what she was playing. While she was trying to regulate the height...BAM!!! Down goes the thing and crashes on the floor. It was howlingly funny, and I had to keep from laughing to avoid "funny" looks. But I've ribbed her with it ever since.

And then there was that time when we were putting on a theater play, and when I was supposed to "attack" one of my mates, I really did. I whacked him over the head. It was a little embarassing, but hey - we won the goddamn competition because of that bit, so whatever.

Oh man, I thought family legends didn't count. i have a few, mostly related to my ditzy old great-great-aunts. I'll tell some other time.

Madurai Hotels, Pollachi Hotels
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The hell?

TWOP fan- I have a very similar story. My mom was working one Saturday and I was home with two of my sisters and one of my older brothers. It was pouring rain and we were bored, so we decided to play Monopoly. We kept all of the board games under my mom and dad's bed, but the dog sometimes slept under there and had scattered the pieces all over the floor. My sister was a bit pyro at the time, so instead of using a flashlight, she used a lighter to help her find the mononpoly money. Of course, the mattress went up in flames. My brother was in the shower at the time, and upon hearing the words "Fire!!!", he came bolting out buck naked and dripping and put the fire out. I was about 6 and he was about 16. I was pretty scarred for life after that.

Another story happened a few years ago. My in laws had come in town for a graduation. Afterwards we all went out to eat. We ate out on the patio because the weather was nice. The patio chairs were the cheap, plastic kind you buy at Walmart. My BIL was sitting in one, and tilting it back on the back legs. We were kinda rouwdy, and were talking about a previous camping trip we had all taken where my sister in law had fallen and hurt herself no less than 4 times in two days. My brother in law was teasing her, saying something about her being clumsy, then out of nowhere, the back legs on the cheap chair blew out, and my BIL was on the florr. It was the funniest thing ever. One second he was making fun, then he was just gone. We all had a gooD laugh at his expense.

I'm always late to these things as well, Codger, which is why I'm not going to bother contributing, but your story (particularly the last few lines) had better end up on EE this week, because it is freakin' HILARIOUS.

Codger, I have been struggling to breath for about an hour now, just from your last sentence and, dear godtopus...the image...must not choke...I second the EE nomination.
Sally's stick shift driving lesson also had me holding my stomach in fear I would pull something. I'm so glad to have found a site where all the commenters have a way with words. These comment diversions are just so much more fun.