When Not To Smile

[shereads]

Note to local television news anchorpersons:

A good time to rest the smile muscles is when delivering this line:

"A bird flu pandemic could kill millions worldwide. More after this message."

 

[Guest]

Note to local television news anchorpersons:

A good time to rest the smile muscles is when delivering this line:

"A bird flu pandemic could kill millions worldwide. More after this message."

youd think they would have to have some kind of class on when to behave certain ways...
but i prefer to think of them as marionettes with little choice on when to smile...

the botox paralyzes the facial muscles yannow...

that must be it.

 

[wishfulthinking]

Eek.

I still remember my first day in court [and unfortunately every day after!]. I couldn't stop smiling I was that excited. You can imagine explaining to the the judge with a big grin that the defendant wasn't appearing because he tried to kill himself and was now a patient at the psychiatric ward for the next few weeks. Why couldn't I be one of those people that puked everytime before court?

Although I think the news presenter has been watching too much reality tv - "and we will find out who australia voted for just after the break" - australian idol every week.

 

[shereads]

Eek.

I still remember my first day in court [and unfortunately every day after!]. I couldn't stop smiling I was that excited. You can imagine explaining to the the judge with a big grin that the defendant wasn't appearing because he tried to kill himself and was now a patient at the psychiatric ward for the next few weeks.

I had similar difficulty while serving on the jury in a murder trial. The main witness was a transvestite prostitute who was alternately referred to by police during testimony as "she" and "Mr. Wilson." When Mr. Wilson, aka China Doll, took the stand, I came so close to laughing that I had to pinch my palm with my fingernails until it bled. I was sitting no more than six feet from the victim's widow during this exchange:

Attorney: "You claim you were in the front seat with the victim, facing the entrance to the alley, but you didn't see the defendants approach the vehicle?"

China Doll: "That's correct."

Attorney: "How is that possible? There is only one way into the alley, and the car was positioned facing the entrance to the alley. Where else could you have been looking?"

China Doll: "I was...conducting my services."

Attorney: "You've testified that the alley was well lit by this street lamp. Is that correct?"

China Doll: "That's correct."

Attorney: "And you were in the front seat of the car when the defendants entered the alley. Yet you expect the court to believe you didn't see them approach?"

China Doll (faces the judge): "Ahem. Your honor, I was not looking outside the car. I was conducting my services."

Attorney: "You were facing the entrance to the alley! It's impossible not to have seen their apporach!"

and so on. I wanted to call a sidebar myself, to concede that everybody in the room with the exception of the defense attorney and perhaps the widow knew what service Mr. Wilson was performing and why she wasn't facing the windshield. But jurors aren't allowed to call sidebars.

It got worse when Mr. Wilson was asked to describe her working attire, and instantly morphed into a perky fashion editor: "I was wearing a form-fitting black lace jumpsuit with a pattern of sewn-on pearls at the bodice..."

Thank God, someone did call for a sidebar, in the nick of time. I had a blister in my palm from pinching it, but I was seconds away from blurting out the least appropriate laugh since TV talk show host Tom Snyder accidentally laughed at one of Charles Manson's jokes. Unfortunately for the widow of the murder victim, the soundproof door of the jury room wasn't fully closed when all twelve of us jurors lost it.

Has any widow ever had a worse day?

 

[lucky-E-leven]

I had similar difficulty while serving on the jury in a murder trial. The main witness was a transvestite prostitute who was alternately referred to by police during testimony as "she" and "Mr. Wilson." When Mr. Wilson, aka China Doll, took the stand, I came so close to laughing that I had to pinch my palm with my fingernails until it bled. I was sitting no more than six feet from the victim's widow during this exchange:

Attorney: "You claim you were in the front seat with the victim, facing the entrance to the alley, but you didn't see the defendants approach the vehicle?"

China Doll: "That's correct."

Attorney: "How is that possible? There is only one way into the alley, and the car was positioned facing the entrance to the alley. Where else could you have been looking?"

China Doll: "I was...conducting my services."

Attorney: "You've testified that the alley was well lit by this street lamp. Is that correct?"

China Doll: "That's correct."

Attorney: "And you were in the front seat of the car when the defendants entered the alley. Yet you expect the court to believe you didn't see them approach?"

China Doll (faces the judge): "Ahem. Your honor, I was not looking outside the car. I was conducting my services."

Attorney: "You were facing the entrance to the alley! It's impossible not to have seen their apporach!"

and so on. I wanted to call a sidebar myself, to concede that everybody in the room with the exception of the defense attorney and perhaps the widow knew what service Mr. Wilson was performing and why she wasn't facing the windshield. But jurors aren't allowed to call sidebars.

It got worse when Mr. Wilson was asked to describe her working attire, and instantly morphed into a perky fashion editor: "I was wearing a form-fitting black lace jumpsuit with a pattern of sewn-on pearls at the bodice..."

Thank God, someone did call for a sidebar, in the nick of time. I had a blister in my palm from pinching it, but I was seconds away from blurting out the least appropriate laugh since TV talk show host Tom Snyder accidentally laughed at one of Charles Manson's jokes. Unfortunately for the widow of the murder victim, the soundproof door of the jury room wasn't fully closed when all twelve of us jurors lost it.

Has any widow ever had a worse day?

If it makes you feel any better, I'm laughing my ass off over here about it as well.

As for worse days? I have this nasty dysfunction of laughing when people hurt themselves. You know, like in the olympics when someone crashes through hurdles and topples for a hundred yards? Or on America's Funniest Videos when guys get hit in the nads with a baseball bat or pinata stick? Or when a female gymnast misses her 'catch' on the upper uneven bar and falls face first into the mat?

If you could hear me now, you'd be apalled. I laugh almost uncontrollably when things like that happen and people think I'm super callous and rude, but I honest to God cannot help it. It's like the reflex in your knee that jolts to life when the doctor whacks it with the little rubber mallet.

~lucky

 

[Guest]

If it makes you feel any better, I'm laughing my ass off over here about it as well.

As for worse days? I have this nasty dysfunction of laughing when people hurt themselves. You know, like in the olympics when someone crashes through hurdles and topples for a hundred yards? Or on America's Funniest Videos when guys get hit in the nads with a baseball bat or pinata stick? Or when a female gymnast misses her 'catch' on the upper uneven bar and falls face first into the mat?

If you could hear me now, you'd be apalled. I laugh almost uncontrollably when things like that happen and people think I'm super callous and rude, but I honest to God cannot help it. It's like the reflex in your knee that jolts to life when the doctor whacks it with the little rubber mallet.

~lucky

its eerie how alike we are.

 

[shereads]

It's okay to laugh when a gymnast falls down. It's slightly less okay if you're there in person, sitting next to her mom. It's not so okay if her neck snaps and her head rolls across the floor. If that happens, pinch the palm of your hand, really really hard, with your fingernails.



The gods punished my fellow jurors and I for laughing, by the way. The bailiff brought our lunch during deliberations. While we were passing the coleslaw and sorting out which sandwich was which, he unfurled a half-dozen colorful poster-size autopsy photos. The exit wound on the victim's left shoulder got egg salad on it. Not pretty.

 

[Guest]

I had similar difficulty while serving on the jury in a murder trial. The main witness was a transvestite prostitute who was alternately referred to by police during testimony as "she" and "Mr. Wilson." When Mr. Wilson, aka China Doll, took the stand, I came so close to laughing that I had to pinch my palm with my fingernails until it bled. I was sitting no more than six feet from the victim's widow during this exchange:

Attorney: "You claim you were in the front seat with the victim, facing the entrance to the alley, but you didn't see the defendants approach the vehicle?"

China Doll: "That's correct."

Attorney: "How is that possible? There is only one way into the alley, and the car was positioned facing the entrance to the alley. Where else could you have been looking?"

China Doll: "I was...conducting my services."

Attorney: "You've testified that the alley was well lit by this street lamp. Is that correct?"

China Doll: "That's correct."

Attorney: "And you were in the front seat of the car when the defendants entered the alley. Yet you expect the court to believe you didn't see them approach?"

China Doll (faces the judge): "Ahem. Your honor, I was not looking outside the car. I was conducting my services."

Attorney: "You were facing the entrance to the alley! It's impossible not to have seen their apporach!"

and so on. I wanted to call a sidebar myself, to concede that everybody in the room with the exception of the defense attorney and perhaps the widow knew what service Mr. Wilson was performing and why she wasn't facing the windshield. But jurors aren't allowed to call sidebars.

It got worse when Mr. Wilson was asked to describe her working attire, and instantly morphed into a perky fashion editor: "I was wearing a form-fitting black lace jumpsuit with a pattern of sewn-on pearls at the bodice..."

Thank God, someone did call for a sidebar, in the nick of time. I had a blister in my palm from pinching it, but I was seconds away from blurting out the least appropriate laugh since TV talk show host Tom Snyder accidentally laughed at one of Charles Manson's jokes. Unfortunately for the widow of the murder victim, the soundproof door of the jury room wasn't fully closed when all twelve of us jurors lost it.

Has any widow ever had a worse day?

That is a VERY funny story. I'd have been sniggering like a goodun', or had palms dripping with blood.

But, and there's always a but with these things, it must have been traumatic for the poor widow.

I love the way you told it, and so glad I wasn't there.

Lou

 

[ABSTRUSE]

I have uncontrollable giggling fits before going into a funeral home.

 

[LadyJeanne]

I'd have to dig my nails into my palm to keep from uncontrollable giggling the first few times I had dinner with an ex's family. They said grace before every meal - my family never did - and it was so unexpected, I couldn't help it! Nothing against prayer or grace, and I was young, but still.

 

[minsue]

I'd have to dig my nails into my palm to keep from uncontrollable giggling the first few times I had dinner with an ex's family. They said grace before every meal - my family never did - and it was so unexpected, I couldn't help it! Nothing against prayer or grace, and I was young, but still.

LOL

I had to bite my til it bled to keep in a giggling fit one dinner at the in-laws right in the middle of the Rev grandma giving grace. Good to know I'm not the only one.

 

[scheherazade_79]

I once came into contact with this little old German lady in a cigar shop. She was completely round, had these horn-rimmed glasses... and a very thick dark moustache. I kept it down to a smile until she started rolling her r's so violently that the counter was vibrating. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I looked straight at her and laughed. And the more I tried not to, the worse it got. I had to leave without buying my cigars, and I felt guilty about it for months after.

 

[sweetnpetite]

A lot of times I have to fight an involentary smile when delivering or hearing bad news or other inappropriate times. I can't think of any examples right now.

Good grief! What causes this???

 

[Guest]

A lot of times I have to fight an involentary smile when delivering or hearing bad news or other inappropriate times. I can't think of any examples right now.

Good grief! What causes this???

I'm the same way. It's odd, but I suspect its some sort of stress reliever.

And though I love cats, hearing of their physical misfortune often strikes me as funny.

Please - no hate mail from cat lovers. I don't mean mortal misfortune.

 

[Guest]

I'm the same way. It's odd, but I suspect its some sort of stress reliever.

And though I love cats, hearing of their physical misfortune often strikes me as funny.

Please - no hate mail from cat lovers. I don't mean mortal misfortune.

I can't say I ever laugh at the misfortune of animals, or even kids. Full grown adult humans, yep! Especially if it involves unceremoniously falling flat on their arses.

Lou - still at you!

 

[Guest]

I can't say I ever laugh at the misfortune of animals, or even kids. Full grown adult humans, yep! Especially if it involves unceremoniously falling flat on their arses.

Lou - still at you!

What if they fall on the arse (lovely spelling) and land on a cat? Is it still funny?

This is the kind of thing I meant

http://www.allfunpix.com/humor/pics2/catsoup.jpg

Did you crack the teeniest smile Lou?

I knew I'd get in trouble for expressing my feelings.

 

[Guest]

What if they fall on the arse (lovely spelling) and land on a cat? Is it still funny?

This is the kind of thing I meant

http://www.allfunpix.com/humor/pics2/catsoup.jpg

Did you crack the teeniest smile Lou?

I knew I'd get in trouble for expressing my feelings.

No, cos the pussycat might get squished.

Ok, that pic cracked the teensiest eensiest little smile.

S'ok, you could never be in trouble with me for long.

Lou

 

[Guest]

No, cos the pussycat might get squished.

Ok, that pic cracked the teensiest eensiest little smile.

S'ok, you could never be in trouble with me for long.

Lou

 

[TheEarl]

It's the giggle loop!

Jeff: You're somewhere solemn, okay. It's a wedding or, yes, it's a minute's silence for someone who's died. The giggle loop begins.

All of a sudden you think, "The worst possible thing I could do in this situation would be to laugh," and with that you nearly do laugh, automatic reaction. But you control yourself, you rein it back in. (Breathes deeply in and out) It's okay.

Then you think how terrible it would have been if you had laughed and you nearly laugh again, only this time it's a bigger laugh. You hold it back, but then you think about what it would have been like it that laugh had got out and you nearly laugh again, only this time it's a ginormous laugh - let this bastard out and you get whiplash!

And you're standing there in the middle of a totally silent room, your shoulders are going like you're drilling the road. And what do you think of this situation? Oh dear Christ, you think it's funny!

Go and watch Coupling (The proper British version rather than the American failure) to see just how funny that scene is. Words don't do it justice.

The Earl

 

[Guest]

Earl, I was waiting for you to tell of the giggle loop. Well done.

Pear

 

[shereads]

That is a VERY funny story. I'd have been sniggering like a goodun', or had palms dripping with blood.

But, and there's always a but with these things, it must have been traumatic for the poor widow.

I love the way you told it, and so glad I wasn't there.

Lou

Seriously, it was awful.

Just awful. Poor widow. Poor lonely husband who kept a bottle of brandy and two snifters in the trunk of his car where most husbands keep jumper cables and a tire iron. Poor teenaged children who had the good sense to stay away, thank god. Poor jurors. Extremely poor tuna sandwiches, but better than the egg salad looked when it landed on the exit wound. Poor sleepy judge. Poor public defender whose case couldn't keep the judge awake. Poor doomed 21-year-old boy, convicted on evidence that seemed solid when we agreed on the verdict but revealed itself to be a pack of lies and misunderstandings that became more obvious by the hour, when I lay awake all night staring at the ceiling. I wondered if the defendant was as amazed as I still am that someone like me had been given power like that.

It was just awful. Serious as a heart attack.

Especially the part where poor Mr. Wilson described what happened after her customer was shot: "I took his gun, because I had not been paid for my services, and I took my glass of brandy - it was excellent brandy - and I fled the scene in terror."

 

[shereads]

I laughed at this hideously tragic true story told to me by a close friend who had just returned from a funeral:

(I know, I know. It's not funny.)

Her stepfather's son from an earlier marriage had killed himself by hanging. As if that wasn't awful enough, the stepfather had been that age when his own father killed himself, also by hanging.

After the funeral the boy's brothers returned home to find that their dog was dead. He had climbed the fence and his collar got caught and he choked to death.

We were both in tears until my friend added, "Wow. The dog hanged himself."

In my defense, she laughed first.

The rest of you people are sick.

 

[ABSTRUSE]

I laughed at this hideously tragic true story told to me by a close friend who had just returned from a funeral:

(I know, I know. It's not funny.)

Her stepfather's son from an earlier marriage had killed himself by hanging. As if that wasn't awful enough, the stepfather had been that age when his own father killed himself, also by hanging.

After the funeral the boy's brothers returned home to find that their dog was dead. He had climbed the fence and his collar got caught and he choked to death.

We were both in tears until my friend added, "Wow. The dog hanged himself."

In my defense, she laughed first.

The rest of you people are sick.

Now I know why theaters have the tradgedy/comedy masks....for people like us.

 

[Guest]

I'm not snickering, honest, I'm not. Nooooo, nooooo, nooooo.

Lou

P.S. Poor tuna sandwiches.

 

[matriarch]

Dammit, its impossible NOT to laugh.

*biting my lip.....hard.........*