September 9, 2009
Dear Clusterflock
When have you laughed out loud in a completely inappropriate moment?
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- Deron Bauman: It’s a start.
- Joel Bernstein: The first of many things, no doubt.
- Deron Bauman: I’ll pick him up at eight. He may not like the way I smell.
- Michael Smith: Joel’s Dream Date: Phantom Menace; Cat urine cologne; Deron.
- Joel Bernstein: For the record, if you pay to see this, you are no longer my friend.
- Deron Bauman: Meow.
- Joel Bernstein: This must be why I fuck so many cats.
- Michael Smith: Seems to me the experiment almost does itself.
- Casey Cichowicz: No. It is not possible. I can assure you.
- Joel Bernstein: Luca Brasi sleeps with the fishes?
- LaurenH: I’m with those who say get that girl out of that household. The father has now very effectively...
- Rick Neece: Holee sh..!
- Rick Neece: Asian calligraphy, ‘cept instead of a brush, hot glass. The image of her controlling the glass and...
- Rick Neece: For the gull-wing, I’m sure it would knock me in the chin every time I opened it.
- Marco: Oh god yes.
Oh my soul, Rick, I did this recently (and scarcely for the first time), but I’ll be switched if I can recall it now.
Soon as I do, you (y’all) will be the first to know.
Yes, at my own Gestapo joke at a seder. Not one of my finer moments.
Oh! This is not what I’ve been trying to recall. It’s from the wayback days. But anyways, I was working a horrible phone solicitation job — I can’t even recall the specifics — and I had snared a woman on the line when she said something about how on the teevee they had just said that someone had shot George Wallace.
And I cackled and said, “Well, you best go watch that. I know I would.”
Yeah, this one time, I was at a seder, and some guy told a Gestapo joke, and I laughed really hard. Regrettable.
A girlfriend’s grand-father’s funeral. An uncle of hers, a great guy who bore a startling resemblance to Larry Drake, let out the most rip-roaring fart mid-service. It made the pews vibrate.
There were five seconds of silence, during which I was shaking trying to hold in the laughter, and then about half of the girlfriend’s half of the family erupted into raucous laughter.
The other three-quarters of the church, puritans mostly, looked at us with such venom, which only made it funnier.
Oh, Rick. Honey. I hardly know where to begin on this one. Laughing inappropriately is pretty much my defining trait.
Off the top of my head:
1. Watching In the Realm of the Senses at an art house theater in 1980. The film broke just as a little girl was pulling on a little boy’s pee-pee. This struck me as hilariously funny, and I laughed so hard that the entire audience started to laugh. We all sat there laughing hysterically with nothing on the screen.
2. Just as my boss was about to introduce Raul Hilberg, the internationally famous Holocaust scholar, at a Holocaust Symposium, I pointed out that Hilberg bears a striking resemblance to Huckleberry Hound. Not only did he have to suppress laughter during the introduction, but I bit my cheeks throughout Hilberg’s presentation on The Destruction of the European Jews.
3. I’ve already told y’all about laughing at Daryl’s grandmother’s funeral. Man, that was funny.
4. There was that time I laughed during sex and was accused of “buzz kill.”
5. We were going through my recently departed aunt’s effects–which included some really nice shoes–and I suggested that Gerry should die more often.
Honestly, I’m not sure a day in my life has gone by without my laughing inappropriately. There was the time the woman died at work and I slipped in her urine and cracked up. There was the time I got a call that the dental college where I work had been hit by a tornado, which sent me into paroxysms. There was the time our cab nearly hit about 20 Chinese school children in Manhattan–their horrified little faces but an inch or two from my window. Hell, I’m still laughing about that.
Thank you, Rick. I could go on all day.
I laughed when my Dad told me how his great-grandfather died. The phrase “fell out of a theatre” just cracked me up.
Thank-you, Sheila. The one about you slipping in the dead lady’s urine had me in fits.
I’m notorious for laughing during sex. Too often, it just strikes me as an utterly ridiculous thing. It never goes over well. Top tip,though – don’t say “I couldn’t look at your face without laughing.” I still have the scar from the aftermath of that episode.
…when my boss asked me if I needed new glasses after I had wrecked the company truck for the second time.
And Chris–it was Cindy who slipped in the urine. Not that Sheila’s so goddamned sure-footed. Also–I’m responsible for the “buzz kill” comment.
See, that’s what happens when I’m still online at 4am.
Although, I’m pretty sure my laughter just frightened the milkman into dropping a bottle in the street. How does one fall out of a theatre?
Cindy’s stories remind me of my friend Caroline, who laughs at moments of tragedy, or hearing about them, or being on the brink of them. I remember the time she said that the biggest laugh she could probably get would be if a plane containing all of her friends and family and everyone she knew and cared about, were to crash and explode into flames. I suppose it’s a nervous thing.
A while back I laughed in a religious gift shop, but my laughter was not inappropriate. What other response could one have to a holy card featuring a Saint Raymond?
That’s it, Sheila. The laughter isn’t inappropriate. What’s inappropriate is people who lack the perspective to find the ironies and absurdities of life funny.
I think those at Clusterflockstock know that Amanda Mae and I do. We do.
Oh, Mary, I still get happy thinking of Andrew’s tiny steering wheel.
[...] Cindy S.: There was the time the woman died at work and I slipped in her urine and cracked up. There was the time I got a call that the dental college where I work had been hit by a tornado, which sent me into paroxysms. There was the time our cab nearly hit about 20 Chinese school children in Manhattan–their horrified little faces but an inch or two from my window. Hell, I’m still laughing about that. [...]
Mary does a bitchin’ Rosa Parks impression if you all didn’t know. It’s something to behold.
I once was at a prayer meetin’ and supposed to be prayin’ silently and kept thinking about an OJ Simpson joke my friend had made the night before I kept laughing and laughing no matter what I did.