Laughter isn't too difficult to judge as to it's quality. And you, personally, can testify as to what percentage of your available 'laugh track' is committed to your current chortling. But you can't do the same for someone other than yourself. Not that has ever been a hindrance to all the judging we do of those around us.
But it would be nice if we could establish a standard of laughter. We could call them peals or maybe traques (in honor of sitcom laugh tracks) or maybe just make a completely new word, like tzarghz. One tzargh would be the amount of laughter needed to raise one cubic centimeter of whoopee cushion one degree, Kelvin. (For extra credit, please finish this new morality tale: "If a tree falls on a whoopee cushion in the forest ... ")
Just as "Super Star" now has no real meaning, the possibility that "she was a million tzarghs!" might someday also become meaningless exists. So we need to instill the humble tzargh with a degree of reverence such as we currently bestow to bra cup sizes.
As per usual, I've now spent upwards of 120 seconds trying to solve yet another of life's mysteries and so I shall retire to my just reward. In about 27 minutes my wife is going to ask me, with a look of total innocence, "Oh, did you want to have sex?" I swear, one of these nights I'm going to say no, to see just how she handles always winning, again.
If she wasn't a million OGOGOGs I wouldn't put up with it. (That probably needs a completely made up word, too.)
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9 comments:
The problem, of course, is that humor is subjective. For example, some people find Tim Allen funny. Those people should all be banished to North Dakota.
I wonder if he's related to Gracie...?
I don't want to measure laughter subjectively; rather it's my desire to allow for the quantification of laughter. This will allow us to label humorless people yet another way.
"If a tree falls on a whoopee cushion in the forest ... ")
would a woman, somewhere, say, "that's just gross, put it away."
Either too much sun or too much golf has done something to Bert's brain...
I find things funny that most people don't all the time. I like it that way. It's like I'm my own private clique. Then again, I'm quite base as well - a good, ripped fart will get me rolling in the aisles every time. Although a stinker will get you banned from my office.
Your wife is trying to give you a sense of power, isn't she?
What gave your wife her first clue? The priest robe, hip waders, rubber gloves, and bag of feathers?
Maybe you should just get a shirt with a big 'YES! I Want SEX' on it to sleep in. That should solve the problem.
Leonesse, you've reminded me of a joke: My wife and agreed on a signaling system. If she wants sex, she pulls on my penis once. If she doesn't want sex, she pulls on my penis 175 times.
Works for me...
The new sex word: ZHGRAZT
I don't know what that means, but I sure know what it feels like.
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