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<feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><id>tag:laughter.blog.co.uk,2009-11-08:/</id><title>Smiles, Giggles and Raucous laughter</title><link rel="self" href="http://laughter.blog.co.uk/feed/atom/posts/"/><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://laughter.blog.co.uk/"/><generator version="1.0">MokoFeed</generator><updated>2009-11-08T12:24:17+01:00</updated><entry><id>tag:laughter.blog.co.uk,2005-09-18:/2005/09/18/title~188689/</id><title>title-188689</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://laughter.blog.co.uk/2005/09/18/title~188689/"/><author><name>bleep</name></author><published>2005-09-18T18:49:13+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T18:49:13+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://data1.blog.de/blog/l/laughter/img/flower-rose_5xv.jpg" title=""&gt;&lt;img src="http://data1.blog.de/blog/l/laughter/img/flower-rose_5xv_small.jpg" border="0" alt=""&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;
I wasn't around when it took place, but the story has been told so many times that I feel like, I was. Back in school Star, Monkey and Order were Head girl, Sports captain and vice-captain (in that order). So they had to be in school way before the rest of us. At one such time, one of the sweepers hit Monkey with a broom. The reason of this is debated. Star says Monkey was refusing to move from an area the woman wanted to sweep. Order say he had accidently hit her with a basketball.&lt;br&gt;
   Whatever the reason, Monkey was very indignant. Even after a half hour he was found complaining about the woman, absentmindedly playing with a flower. The same flower that had been in the woman's hair who had hit him with the broom.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://laughter.blog.co.uk/2005/09/18/title~188689/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:laughter.blog.co.uk,2005-09-18:/2005/09/18/title~188602/</id><title>title-188602</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://laughter.blog.co.uk/2005/09/18/title~188602/"/><author><name>bleep</name></author><published>2005-09-18T18:14:45+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T18:14:45+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://data1.blog.de/blog/l/laughter/img/blackboard.jpg" title=""&gt;&lt;img src="http://data1.blog.de/blog/l/laughter/img/blackboard_small.jpg" border="0" alt=""&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;This is an example of what we had to endure in two year of Hell, apart from the torture.&lt;br&gt;
A particularly enthusiastic Math teacher left behind in his wake, a blackboard full of strange symbols. Or atleast that's what it appeared to me to be. The next teacher walked in, looked at the board and waited for a few minutes while some losers were copying down whatever was on the board. Then cheerfully he asked,"If you don't have mind, can I rub the board?" There was a stunned silence followed by loud giggles. From both students and the teacher for some reason.
&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://laughter.blog.co.uk/2005/09/18/title~188602/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:laughter.blog.co.uk,2005-09-18:/2005/09/18/title~188560/</id><title>title-188560</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://laughter.blog.co.uk/2005/09/18/title~188560/"/><author><name>bleep</name></author><published>2005-09-18T17:58:48+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T17:58:48+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;Situation: Classroom where all of us are working on a problem. She finishes and&lt;br&gt;
Wish: What's the answer?&lt;br&gt;
Me: Check behind. (the answers are provided at the last page of the chapter)&lt;br&gt;
Wish (turning and looking behind her) : &lt;em&gt;what&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Situation: Wish's house. Me, Star and Happy lounging around discussing the world's oldest turtle (excuse us, we're weird)&lt;br&gt;
Star: How do we know how old a turtle is?&lt;br&gt;
Wish (promptly): You ask the guide in the zoo or it's usually written on a board next to the exhibit.&lt;br&gt;
Star, Happy and me dissolve into laughter.&lt;br&gt;
Wish: &lt;em&gt;What&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;I could fill this blog with only Wish stories.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://laughter.blog.co.uk/2005/09/18/title~188560/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry><entry><id>tag:laughter.blog.co.uk,2005-09-16:/2005/09/16/title~185541/</id><title>title-185541</title><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://laughter.blog.co.uk/2005/09/16/title~185541/"/><author><name>bleep</name></author><published>2005-09-16T20:35:01+02:00</published><updated>2005-09-18T18:00:16+02:00</updated><content type="html">	&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://data1.blog.de/blog/l/laughter/img/B663_139_280.jpg" border="0" alt=""&gt;&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Situation: The day we are leaving Darjeeling. Lots of packing to be done, stuff can't be found, everybody in a cranky mood and everyone and everything is being shouted at. In the middle of all this....&lt;/p&gt;
	&lt;p&gt;Me: Hey, Wish. Throw out the 3 day-old water from the bottle.&lt;br&gt;
Wish picks up the bottle from the table, walks towards the wastepaper basket and throws the bottle in!!&lt;br&gt;
Me (full of exasperation): Not the bottle you fool, I said throw out the water.&lt;br&gt;
By now, everyone has stopped whatever they're doing and watching Wish. She takes the bottle out of the dustbin, unscrews the lid and empties the contents in the wastepaper basket.&lt;br&gt;
The whole room resounds with laughter with Wish standing and watching us with this real, confused expression.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt; &lt;small&gt; &lt;a href="http://laughter.blog.co.uk/2005/09/16/title~185541/#comments"&gt;Comments&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/small&gt; &lt;/p&gt;</content></entry></feed>
