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What made YOU laugh today/tonight ?

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I used to have a cat...but now I have dogs.

One of my dogs today behave like a cat.Said miaow...my papillon dog 'Noah'.

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Fantasy writer Patrick Rothfuss describing the ecosystem of a farm (chickens eat bugs, plants grow off the chicken poop, etc) and saying that's something Nikola Tesla would have come up with. :)) Link to the interview: 

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It's been my experience that most Quakers are bright, witty and quite grounded. The usurpation by an oatmeal company of their nickname (how the Friends came to be commonly known as Quakers is an interesting story!) and representation, archaic though it is, has long been a source of amusement.

 

Friends are more populous than most know in North Carolina, and the "silent meeting" most typical here would probably not seem alien to many Bums.

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......probably something wicked made me laugh today...wicked as in ornery...I can't remember what made me laugh today...sometimes its like a fast moving cloud.....or I just talk to myself and get snickering.

but I think the cat thing with the milk bowl is very cute. cats are the best. that one had a leopard looking coat.

do you think the video is real? I would think the cats could manage that a few times but do you think it was edited?

 

sometimes things make me laugh that are not appropriate for internet viewing/sharing....my secret.

Edited by sagebrush

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10363761_10152799364658362_3818209958868

hahahaha, that reminds me of dinner this weekend, fam from far away was  cruising by so stopped for dinner, along with another couple, ol friends.

 

aunt's friend was telling us how her mom & dad used to both be hard of hearing and bicker, once when people started arriving they were going at it and grams sat down and said "ok that's it, people are here, no more bickering, now come have a seat!"

 

and gramps said "dear, I dont need any goddamned vitamin C!"

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MacTavish visited London for his annual holiday and stayed at a large hotel. However, he didnae feel that the natives were friendly. 'At 4 o'clock every morning,' he told a friend, 'they hammered on my bedroom door, on the walls, even on the floor and ceiling. Och, sometimes they hammered so loud I could hardly hear myself playing the bagpipes.'

True story: I was 18 and working at the Rennaissance Faire south of Los Angeles which is like a big hippy fest outside the public open hours. I was new to it and it was a few days in but was my first. Since I think everyone but me was stoned (goody two shoes even back then apparently) they were sleeping more soundly perhaps. It was just dawn, still dark but for the tiniest light on the horizon, when the most god-awful sound awoke us. I figured out it was bagpipes but why anybody would ever play them let alone at that hour and so loudly was beyond me.

 

Everyone was awake around me now. "Why doesn't someone tell that lunatic to stop?!" I asked rhetorically, but the guy nearby says, "It's the Scots." and turns over and goes back to sleep. People grunt agreement, and go back to sleep. In the middle of that caterwauling! As if "It's the Scots." explains everything. I look at all the people around me who are now resting blissfully again, as if their brains simply adapted on the spot.

 

I certainly wouldn't be sleeping any time soon. Determined to go tell this person to wait until the bloody daylight at least, I get dressed as fast as I can. That was my "press all molecules of body fat up into your bosum" outfit mind you, as apparently the primary currency of that period of history was women's breasts. (I sold pinwheels during the day. We lolled over our booth's counter, waiting until the boss and no kids were around to bustily breeze at couples in the worst possible low english accent, "Oh c'mon now! Buy the lady a stick she can blow on all day!" We thought we were so hilarious.)

 

I stomp toward the noise, morning hair and no mirror probably looking like medusa, toward the ghastly wailing which is now in some kind of more-than-one-of-them discordant chaos -- really? Did these people never hear of harmony?? I asked myself, now righteously fuming about this chaos waking up the ENTIRE camp -- and as I get nearer to it, I hear this occasional, THUD. Wail-breathy-wail-eeeeerrrrrghhhh-THUD. That only adds to the mystery.

 

I'm getting close now and I see several other people, hair akimbo, clothing hastily thrown on, most of them men, standing around with their arms crossed and their mouths frowning. They're moving back and forth because they're cold, but they're apparently watching something and they're not saying anything which is beyond me for why, because I'm pretty sure all of them, like me, came to give these insane rising-dawn bagpipers a piece of their mind.

 

But as I come around a corner I see why.  The Scotts, you see, were merely 'infamous' for playing their bagpipes at the break of rising dawn.

 

What they were really locally famous for, though, was:

 

a - being REALLY. BIG. MEN.  I mean really big. Like "I'd have played pro football but I kept making them cry so they sent me home" big. Or maybe those are just the ones that go out in the morning with the pipe players to intimidate the locals. And

 

b - apparently their primary hobby -- no idea if this was related to what they were selling at the Faire or not -- was AXE THROWING.

 

So we stood there, in some degree of awe at these huge men throwing sharp axes at pieces of wood like a jolly contest they all have before breakfast, and we considered telling them what we thought of them making all this noise in the morning. And we looked at them. And they barely even deigned to look at us.

 

And we went back to bed.

 

And that was the Scotts in Los Angeles in 1983.

 

Bet they're a bloody riot back home in Scotland. :-)

 

RC

Edited by redcairo
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This made me crack up. This is actually political and anti-Trump-admin but I still thought it was pretty funny. It reminded me of the SNL that I used to love circa '79-82 or so, which has been worse than gone for a long, long time.

 

 

RC

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Comment on another forum   ;  

 

woman posts -

 

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man posts after her ;  

 

Hmmmm .... ponder2.gif   .....    when I lived with a woman , there was never any need for her to do either of those things .

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let's talk about Socrate

 

It is the example of the rider who wishes to become an expert horseman: "None of your soft-mouthed, docile animals for me," he says; "the horse for me to own must show some spirit" in the belief, no doubt, if he can manage such an animal, it will be easy enough to deal with every other horse besides. And that is just my case. I wish to deal with human beings, to associate with man in general; hence my choice of wife. I know full well, if I can tolerate her spirit, I can with ease attach myself to every human being else.

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