Roving Reporter: Funniest Thing That Happened

By Nancy Polanski (nap) on July 18, 2011

Today I have no Spotlight interview, so it's time for another Roving Reporter article. I approached a number of you with the question...”What is the funniest thing that ever happened to you? Or the funniest thing you ever saw, or did?” I hope these answers will make you smile.

"What is the funniest thing that ever happened to you? Or the funniest thing you ever saw, or did?” Some folks couldn't narrow it down to only one thing, and I couldn't decide for them, so I'll just use them all! I hope you'll enjoy reading about people's silliest experiences.......


Torriesmom: It is kind of funny, but I can think of a time in the winter when I, who always wears pants because they are more comfortable, wore a slip to work, and when I took off my coat I was half dressed. The skirt was left at home.

And once while visiting a South Carolina farm, I needed a gentle horse to ride. As soon as I got on, it ran under a large tree branch, trying to scrape me off. A little child on a pony had to rescue me and take the reins. I was in my 20's then. Oh, we laughed. (The liquor made it funnier.)

Or this. A speaker was called to the platform, and in passing down the aisle he accidentally brushed past a women sitting in the audience. As he started to speak, he was interrupted. His buttons had removed the wig from the lady. He jumped in surprise when he looked to where the people were pointing at him, thinking that he was being attacked by a furry creature.

(This might not be funny to everyone, but because I wear a wig due to my weekly radiation treatments the last 3 months, I see the humor in it. Needless to say, I use extra pins in my wig now, just in case, and giggle doing it.)


Roadrunner: (this happened on DG...but you can change the name to protect the guilty)

A few years back it was going to be Our Horseshoe's 50th birthday....and since we all loved him so much I quietly emailed lots of folks on the web site and told them, “Let's send Our Shoe a bunch of 'over the hill' stuff to help him celebrate.”

What a great response we had....then we found out that I was very mistaken in his age and he would only be [email protected]@!! Was my face red!!!!

(Shoe never lets me forget it. LOL! - Jo)


Sunshines2day: Hmmm, you've got me thinking. When I was a kid I remember watching a TV show that I think was called Real People. If I remember correctly they had a segment that aired photos of funny things people took pictures of and sent in. I took a picture of a sign at a drugstore here in my hometown that I just can't forget. I sent it in to the show and it was shown on TV. The sign read.....

“ Valentine's Day Special: Shotgun Shells 1/2 Off ”

 That's the funniest thing coming to mind so far.


Sallyg: One of my family stories. COOL! (I was about to jump right into The Pickle Story but that was more odd than funny.)

OK! A few Thanksgivings ago, we hosted dinner for my husband and kids, and two 'grandmas' (his mom and mine). What a lovely way to be able to treat them to a nice visit. They got to chat with each other instead of, as in the past, being the 'only' senior guest at dinner. I'd also been nervous about too much energy from our somewhat rambunctious young German Shepard , but she managed to behave after getting over her initial excitement.

 Mom had of course brought her 'famous' homemade pumpkin pie. We all liked it better than any other pumpkin pie. Dinner was great. Since the two ladies had each other for company, and were very senior, they didn't fight me, but let us do the cleanup while they sat in the living room and talked. So we were in and out of the kitchen and dining room, ebb and flow of conversation, and it was time to cut the pie. Well someone went into the kitchen and discovered that Addy, the pup, had taken advantage of the distractions, had reached up on the table, and licked a hole in the middle of the pie! Mom's famous pie! Highlight of the evening after turkey! The whole top of the pie looked perfect except for this hole. So acting quickly and with a bit of creative cutting, we cut pie slices in the kitchen and carried them out, thus preventing the Mom's from seeing the carnage. And stifling our snickering the whole time. I just so did not want my Mom to be disappointed about her made-with-love pie! I suppose we could have fessed up and had a good laugh, but we do like the story this way, when our stealth saved the day!

 (Oh that's good, but can I know the pickle story too, please?)

 I took my kids to Burger King. It was a nice day and there is a shady tree, so we opened the windows and ate in the van with the breeze blowing through. Three kids aged I guess 7, 10 and 12, a little chit-chat, an ordinary day (yet in retrospect, no peaceful day with your happy kids should be thought of as only ordinary), when a small car pulls up to the exit about 50 feet away with its windows open. As it stops to check for traffic, we hear a woman's voice from the car SCREAM FURIOUSLY "DON'T THROW OUT YOUR PICKLE!!!" And then it drives off. We just sat there stunned. What about a pickle could cause her to sound so furiously exasperated? Was it so horrible if a kid tossed a pickle slice out the window? Not to us. That's not exactly trash, is it? Yet if the kid was taking the pickle out cuz he didn't like it in his burger, would you say "throw out"? Or is there a kid so uncivilized that he would throw his pickle out inside the vehicle? (potential nasty mess, but in that case wouldn't the 'mom' see to it before getting underway?) The phrase just didn't fit that scenario either.

 No lead in, no followup yelling, just the one screech. “DON"T THROW OUT YOUR PICKLE.” It was just one of those 'wonder what the heck was going on' things!!

 (I will bet that like so many phrases in our house, you guys shout that out to one another once in awhile, for no reason at all!)

 Yes, you got it right! Here's one of those funny 'only our family gets it' things you pick up. We usually take yearly trips, often with car travel. So we'd check in to Hampton Inn, sometimes just tell the desk two adults and two kids and let the third kid sleep on the floor. One time DH told Kevin to hang back separately and we'd pretend we don't know him, and that he's just a midget businessman that happened to be going up to the same floor. So 'midget businessman' is not funny to anyone else, but hilarious to us!


Mindy03: Funniest things to happen to me....One lovely Autumn day, I decided to walk down to the pasture to get some dried cow patties to mix with the dirt in my new flower bed. I took 2 white buckets and my dog Mindy with me. All was fine on the way to the pasture, and I started picking up the cow patties and putting them in the buckets. I knew our neighbor's cattle were in that section but didn't think anything of it until I looked up to find the whole herd surrounding me. As soon as they knew I had noticed them, they started bawling, big time.

 Poor Mindy was scared to death. After all, it was her first encounter with them up close and personal. For a minute I couldn't think what in the world was causing them to do that, then I remembered that my husband used white buckets to carry their feed in when he was feeding them ground feed. I went ahead and finished my cow patty gathering and headed home. As soon as I got a gap in the herd big enough for Mindy to get through, she was off like a shot, heading for home. I walked back carrying my two white buckets with the whole herd following me.

 When I got to the gate closest to the house I spotted Mindy up ahead of me going full tilt toward the gate. She went under the gate then turned around to watch me. I had to sit down then because I was laughing so hard at her, and the herd caught up with me and surrounded me again demanding their feed. One cow decided she was tired of waiting, and came up and pushed me off the bucket I was sitting on.

 Now, after that, I never take a white bucket with me when I go gathering cow patties or walnuts.


Boopaints: Your questions made me wish I'd kept a laugh journal, but as of today, I will begin one! Over the years there were times we laughed until we cried and hiccupped. And to remember them when asked for a glimpse, is difficult! The best ones I recall are hard to put into writing and you kinda had to be there. But here are two, choose which fits best for your article!

1. Sharing a yummy Mexican food lunch with my daughters, I was sharing a story about how an idea came to me. Sometimes (always) I use hand gestures, and in this instance I meant to tap my head (as though an idea came to me) but actually missed and hit my cheek...and hit it HARD! I yelped "ouch!!!" which had both of my daughters laughing until tears streamed down their faces. Other diners were laughing at my girls' hysterical noises, as I sat red faced with a hand print on my cheek. They tell the story better and better with each telling...and yes, I laugh too now!

2. After moving into our new home in 1986, my son woke me up with screams of "I SMELL SMOKE!" and I jumped out of bed to locate the fire. It was actually outside AND we discovered the jacuzzi pump was putting out all kinds of smoke. Our phone was to be installed that same day and cell phones weren't part of my life yet. Fortunately, a helpful neighbor called the fire department and they arrived quickly. After putting out the fire and turning off the electricity to the jacuzzi, they left with much appreciation from us. Once back inside the house, my son commented, "they should have been thanking you, Mom!" After questioning him, he shared that the cotton nightie I had been wearing was pretty much see-through with the sunshine showing through it. Thankfully those were my skinnier days and I'm sure the fireman got a great laugh and future story telling for many son sure has!


Zanymuse: A friend, Amy, had a lovely black cat. The cat's name was Jasmine and it walked around the house with it's head and tail erect in a queenly manner. She was a delightfully loving and much loved creature with a very dignified strut to her walk and impeccable in her grooming.

The only problem with this delightful creature was that she suffered from some type of gastritis and was forever passing gas. Ohhh, the smell was not that of the lovely flower she was named after and to make matters worse, Jasmine loved to put her rear end as close to your face as she possibly could.

Amy left Jasmine with me when she went on vacation one year. When she got back two weeks later and called to say she was coming over the next morning to retrieve her much adored Jasmine, I told her that Jasmine was fine and in good health ... ...uh... ahem...she might look a bit different...but...well... son had sort of... uh...given her a new look ... one that actually seemed to suit her very well...

When Amy arrived, Jasmine came regally into the room with her head high and tail raised in greeting, jumped up on Amy's shoulder and...passed gas...Which Amy gulped in as she gasped in shock seeing the white streak of paint my son had added to Jasmine from the tip of her nose to the tip of her tail.

Jasmine did not seem to notice or care about that white streak ... but ...Amy...well we remained friends but after that she never asked me to take care of Jasmine again.
A rose by any other name may smell as sweet, and Jasmine will smell worse than a skunk regardless of her appearance.


Calif_Sue: My Mom and I went to visit a local daylily hybridizer and we were both walking up and down the rows of daylilies trying to stay clear of some really muddy sections that had just been watered. I spotted a large, gorgeous bloom at the far end of one row and carefully made my way over to get a picture of it. As I stepped forward to get a good angled shot, my foot slipped in very thick mucky mud and I landed flat on my back, flattening a daylily loaded with tags of recently hybridized blooms, and breaking a stem right off. My mother, at the other end of the row, had just looked up in time to see me go down. She said both my feet flew up in the air and that it was the funniest thing she ever saw. She was laughing so hard that she could barely ask if I was OK. I was mortified and I actually used that mud to try and prop up the stem, but it was a clean break. I had to go apologize to the hybridizer for ruining those seeds for him but he was very understanding and apologized to me for watering, knowing we were coming for a visit. Since I was a muddy mess, we quickly left. About 20 minutes into our drive home, my mother starts laughing hysterically again, tears pouring down her face. She said she just couldn't get the picture out of her head of how my feet flew up in the air! I joined her in the laughter, almost having to pull over to catch my breath and wipe away my tears!


Pajonica: Funny things seem to happen to me all the time!

Here's a little fishing story. Quietly sat at the edge of a small lake pouring coffee from a flask when of course I got a bite. The hot coffee spilled into my lap, causing me to leap up, knocking everything over. Tackle, bait, the lot went! A guy fishing opposite had seen this all happen and began laughing hysterically when his folding seat collapsed and he fell into the water.


This one is a driving home laugh:

Driving home from work one summer evening, quite suddenly the car in front just stopped and did a U turn in front of me, causing me to brake and stop. The driver, a youngish guy with two young women in the back, pulled alongside and said, "I can do things like that as I'm better looking than you." Quick as a flash I said, "that'll be the second time you didn't check your mirror today then." I heard the girls shrieking with laughter as he hastily drove off.




Kaglic: Several years ago I received the family title of, "Official Greeter for the State of Alaska." We had gone to meet my Aunt, from Michigan, on an incoming flight at Anchorage International. It had been many years since I'd last seen her, but as the passengers arrived, I felt sure the woman I greeted with a big hug, was my Aunt. She too, seemed very happy to see me. You can guess the rest of the story ~ My Aunt then came up to me, and of course, I nearly fell over with embarrasment, as the woman I'd hugged was not my Aunt! We all had a good laugh and it remains a family favorite story.




Threegardeners: OMG! where to begin. Ok...the very first thing that popped into my head happened when I was with my Dad. Mom and Dad were living out here so it was maybe 1995-ish. The elderly lady that lived next door to them had a nurse come in every day to help her with meals and take care of her disabled daughter. My parents became friends with the nurse.

They'd decided to make crab-apple jelly that fall, so we were climbing around in trees picking apples. The nurse lady slipped and had the wind knocked out of her...she was on the ground gasping and coughing, like you do when you get the wind knocked out of you. Well, my Dad got all worried and came rushing over....With great concern on his face, he asked her, "OMG are you ok? Do you need artificial insemination or something??"

The nurse just looked at him with this shocked look and then she and I just started rolling around laughing until the tears were pouring from our eyes and I swear, I just about wet my pants!!

Poor dad, of course he meant "artificial resuscitation!!”




Sharran: One of the things that seems to have followed me throughout my life, from early childhood through the longevity of very nearly 70 years, is the speech pattern that I developed back in the mountains of southeast Kentucky where I grew up. Now the pattern does not bother me at all. In fact, I can understand you quite well. But from the looks of wonder and question that I often receive when I speak, I sense that it might bother you. I think I do better with the written word.

Mind you, I grew up in the head of a holler, 'hollow' for those of you who don't know. A hollow is the low-lying valley between two mountains. My grandmothers and my great aunt had lived there all their lives, smart women they were, but they had not traveled very far out of the mountains when I came along. I learned to talk with the same speech patterns they had.

It started in high school, when I was bussed to a consolidated school that was about 10 miles from my hollow. I noticed those from other hollows had slightly different speech patterns than I did. I remember my first rude awakening. I was in biology class and I was 14 years old. I remember it like yesterday. My biology teacher had a large picture he held up in front of the class.

"Can you identify this creature," he asked.

I was not very big and if I wanted his attention I had to very nearly stand up from my seat and wave my arm in the air. I did that. He pointed to me.

"Lickrish butterfly!" I said loud and clear for all to hear.

Dead silence. Then the giggles started.

It was only years later that I understood the problem. The larvae of the black swallowtail butterfly feasted on the fennel plant that grew in the back row of my grandmother's garden. My grandmother called fennel the licorice plant because of its taste. To me the word sounded like lickrish and to me the butterflies that flitted nearby would forever be lickrish butterflies.

I survived that time. I almost did not survive my sophomore year in college.

I'd decided to take a summer school class because I was madly in love with my handsome Humanities professor. I liked his class quite a bit too. So we were discussing how archeologists and anthropologists could learn about ancient cultures by going through their waste and what was left centuries later from their meals. Ugh. Anyway, the question was asked, “What will archeologists learn thousands of years from now about the waste from your 4th of July picnic next week?"

Still being from the head of the holler, I said...loud and clear as before..."Rosnirs".

"Excuse me," said my very handsome Humanities professor.

"Rosnirs," I repeated, just as loudly, just as clearly.

The class was silent, not even a giggle could be heard.

The very handsome professor stood with eyebrows raised, a question on his face. Finally he said, "Could you describe what might be found from your ummmmmm....uhhhhhhhh rosnirs?"

"Sure, I'm talkin' 'bout ears of corn that are roasted in their shucks, you know, rosnirs! They might find the empty corn cobs."

"Wwwwellllll, ummmmmm, yes. You might be right."
Then the giggles started.

Before I wrote this little story for you, Nap, I checked Merriam-Webster dictionary, and there I found ros-nirs, pronounced with a long 'o' sound and the last syllable is pronounced 'neers'. It means roasted ears of corn. Just so you know.

I swear, sometimes life is just simply difficult.

Yeah. I really need to stick with the written word.




Dahlianut: Why have one funny story when you can do it twicely? Both stories are all about me (big surprise snort). Here's the fish story.

I luv to fish, mostly to eat, but it’s also about paddling or putting about on the water. Once I was fishing with 3 other fisherpeoples in a zodiak (big rubber raft thing with a motor) in Moose Bay (there are no meese there and bald eagles nest there so it should be called Eagle Bay IMPO) of Great Slave Lake (a big, cold, grey lake in the Northwest Territories).We were fishing for lake trout (YUM!) but in the sloughs of Moose Bay there live many slough sharks. Slough sharks (aka Jack Fish or Northern Pike) are very aggressive, slimey fishes so smart fisherpeoples always reel in when trolling through sloughs when fishing for trout. …O did I mention I’m not a very smart fisherpeople?

Of coursely I was not paying attention as we trolled through a slough and forgot to reel in my line and sure nuff CHOMP! I caught a slough shark and had to reel it in to release it. It was a BIG fish and one of the smart fisherpeoples wanted to take a pic of it, so after reeling and reeling and reeling a big running fish up to the boat AND getting totally slimed getting it into the boat AND getting the hook out without tearing its mouth, now I was going to pick up and hold a big, slimey fish. Okie dokie. So I’m standing there holding its head in one hand trying to hold the big bod with my other arm and…. O did I mention slough sharks have big teeth?....

Now the slimey fish is flying out of the boat one way, blood is pouring out of my hand and of coursely I looked at my owie and …. O did I mention I faint at the sight of my own blood? I mean faint with a clunk, not a delicate gracefull swoon where you’re catchable, but an uncatchable rockslide fall….Dahlianut is fainting out of the boat the other way into the slough with a splash.

The tres cold water revived me pretty quick and it was shallow enough to stand up so now I’m standing in a slough with chattering teeth, trying not to look at my bleeding hand and you would think I would be rescued, wouldn’t you? …O did I forget to mention that the boat was still trolling when I landed the fish? Yes there the boat was out in the bay, sailing off into the sunset in a wobbly manner cuz the three smart fisherpeople were laughing so hard they couldn’t steer.

You would think that was enough fun enough for one day, wouldn’t you? But no, an hour or so later I caught another big slough shark….


Here's my skunk story:

Three years ago a pair of skunks moved in under the garden shed. I learned all I could about skunk ways, stocked up on tomato juice for the crazy ole cat, made up a skunk song and secretly hoped there would be baby skunks one day. Over the years my tru luv has had many adventures attempting to roust the savage attack skunks out of the garden and I helped by naming them Peppy Le Peu and Peppermint (cuz methinks it’s rude to say ‘Heh You Skunk).

Last week I was out watering the greenhouse after dark when I heard a noise behind me. The greenhouse door was open and it’s just opposite the door to the skunk’s den. Uh oh. My back was to the door so I kept watering and humming my skunk song because I had no idea what else to do. When my watering can ran dry I couldn’t hear any other sounds but thirsty plants drinking so I thought it was safe to peek behind me. There standing in the doorway looking at me was Stinky. (Apple Blossom and Stinky are identical twins but I’m sure only Stinky would be silly enough to go up to a big people by himself).

I don’t know how long we both stood there listening to my humming (probably at LEAST a month) but eventually I realized I was going to have to sit down at some point in time and I was getting a big crick in my neck. So I sloooooowly turned my head back around and slooooowly lowered myself down to sit on a tomato container (flattening the tomato in the process). After a minute or two with my back still to the door, I peeked over my shoulder and Stinky was gone. WHEW! That is when I learned a new life lesson: it’s not a good idea to do a dance of joy on gravel in a greenhouse after dark just outside the front door of a skunk den.

Slowly sitting back down on the tomato (just to be sure I really killed it) I was now looking at the back end of papa Peppy Le Peu who was standing on the path outside the greenhouse door. Obviously the little stinker Stinky had ratted me out!!!! AND WORSE I now knew that my stockpile of tomato juice was not big enough. True to form, the crazy ole cat decided at that moment to enter the scene by howling on the back deck to get into the house. So although Peppy and fam and the crazy ole cat aren’t enemies, I softly put my head in my lap and kissed my curlaceous locks goodbye.

I’m sure I huddled with the dead tomato for another month before I was finally roused by my tru luv at the door with a big flashlight who asked, “Are you mad?!? The skunks will get you if you stay like that. Shouldn’t you be making some noise?”


And with that laugh, I think we should close! I did have a cute story of my own, but it can't compete with some of the whoppers told here so I'll save it for another time. Remind me.

Please watch for our next interview. Sharon has an interesting guest for us to meet.

And please, please, please feel free to share any funny stories of your own in the threads following this article.  I want more!


Related articles:
interview, Roving Reporter

About Nancy Polanski
I live in Western New York. I'm retired, after working for 30 years in the Microbiology Labs at our county hospital. My time now is spent mostly with the Karen refugee population in Buffalo, advocating for them, teaching, helping and enjoying them. I've twice traveled to their camps in Thailand and experienced their culture. It seems they have taught me more about life than I have taught them.

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Comments and discussion:
Subject Thread Starter Last Reply Replies
Such fun! Boopaints Aug 1, 2011 1:17 PM 9
What a laugh! pajonica Jul 28, 2011 9:14 PM 39
The 1956 Ford and the Sombreros Aguane Jul 27, 2011 2:01 AM 12
Fasting pajonica Jul 18, 2011 4:48 AM 1

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