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    In our March issue, we asked our staff to tell us about the last time they laughed so hard it hurt.


    I generally have a good, hearty laugh at myself. (Awkward is endearing, right?) Last time I belly-laughed was when my friend Deva and I were talking about our favorite grungy bars. In the late ’90s, I worked at Deddens’ Highland Fling on Bardstown Road. The bar used one bottle of Windex over its 20-something-year existencei, and it was never refilled. When the place closed in 2000, that was my souvenir — a glass bottle of Windex with one inch of liquid left. I laughed about that, and about owner Lois Deddens’ unwanted collection of frog tchotchkes. She hated those frogs, but people thought she collected them.

    — Suki Anderson, art director


    I am not super-proud of this, but the Netflix animated show Big Mouth kills me. For the uninitiated: It’s a highly raunchy, fairly accurate portrayal of middle-schoolers going through puberty. Maya Rudolph (a comic goddess, in my book) voices a “hormone monster” who encourages naughty deeds and vicious attitudes toward parents. This dirty little cartoon can reach peak levels of awkward and R-rated behavior, but anyone who survived puberty deserves a chance to laugh at it.

    — Anne Marshall, senior writer


    I do marketing for Against the Grain Brewery, and part of our gimmick for a beer festival in Boston was a Benjamin Franklin costume. After the fest (and many, many beers) I put on the Ben Franklin wig. If you recall from your history lessons, he was part bald. I saw the videos in the morning and split my sides.

    — Katie Molck, contributing writer


    This definitely isn’t the most recent time, but it popped into my head as one of my favorite bouts of laughter. We were six teenage girls hanging out in my parents’ basement. The late-night chatter began to dissipate as, one by one, we drifted off. Some of us were still chatting when, out of nowhere, my sleeping friend Olivia said, “Can I help the next person in line?” We burst out laughing so hard it woke her up, and she joined in.

    — Megan Heinsohn, event coordinator


    Two nights ago with my roommates. All five of us piled into one bed and giggled for hours. We like to imagine what our life will look like when we’re older, and we think up the most imaginative storylines for the future versions of us. Our personal favorite is one of my roommates and I ending up like the show Grace and Frankie — living together forever because everyone sees us as a package deal.

    — Maya O. McKenzie, editorial intern


    When Conan O’Brien took his show to Havana, Cuba, he filmed in a Cuban grocery that had very few product choices but miles and miles of the products it did have. The proprietor approached as the camera’s wide-angle lens was showing hundreds of bottles of the same dry-wine brand lined up side by side, and he told the crew it couldn’t film in the store. Quick with an excuse, Conan said, “I’m sorry, but I was just wondering if you had any…vino seco. Oh, there it is.”

    — Jack Welch, copy editor


    I am one of the few who finds most horror movies hilarious, with some exceptions from the recent renaissance (Hereditary, It Follows). In Hell Fest, some college kids attend a horror theme park, and of course an actual murderer is parading as a staff member. At the height of the comedy, he smashes someone’s head with an oversized mallet on top of a strength-tester game. As the brains spurt like water from a balloon, the metal puck races up and rings the bell. 

    — Jenny Kiefer, associate writer


    Selina Meyer, Julia Louis-Dreyfus’s character on Veep, gets me every time. Her one-liners are vicious, and so smart and funny. Julia Louis-Dreyfus is a gift to this world.

    — Alexandra Winters, digital media manager


    My husband Jesse is the ultimate source of laughter in my life. He recently posted a poem on social media that opens with, “Grow that beard long, woman / We likes our ladies hairy.” He is adept at accents and imitation, and they have made me laugh so hard that I must forcefully tell him to stop so I don’t I pee my pants.

    — Lindsay Flint, advertising production coordinator


    Days after I’ve said something my two-year-old son will repeat it, which is why my wife walked into the house the other night and he said, “Hey, Babe.”

    — Josh Moss, editor

    This originally appeared in the March 2019 issue of Louisville Magazine as the Inter-Office Memo. To subscribe to Louisville Magazineclick here. To find us on newsstands, click here.

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