I laugh a lot.
Like, a lot.
When I say “I almost hurt myself laughing”, that’s hyperbole, but only because I am spectacularly prone to overstatement. (As one person in one of my tutes last year put it, “You think everything is awesome, don’t you?” Which is true. I… I tend to find reasons to like things. Sometimes it involves liking things ironically, but I will like the bastards one way or the other. Anyway!) I have actually hurt myself laughing many times, and not just through walking into walls or something. I tend to overdo the laughter.
I’m not one of those guys that’s always laughing loudly and annoyingly (‘always’ being the key word here), but I’m amused by anything even remotely funny. The way this manifests itself the most is with that sort of exhalation through the nose that people do – the one that sounds almost sort of condescending, like you don’t want to deign to laugh any more? Like a snigger, but only the first part, with everything else left off. Yeah, that one.
I’m the guy that does that at everything that even slightly tickles my funny bone.
I’ve never listened to my drunk laugh from a third-person perspective (such as a recording or something), but I’m pretty sure it’s not exactly dulcet tones, if you get my drift. From my end, it sounds like a drunken hyena laugh, but since my perception of my voice has never matched up to what it actually is, well… Look at it this way. From my end, my voice legitimately sounds deep, maybe a little throaty, and confident. Recordings of my voice tell me that it’s actually got that weird nerd-throat-closure thing going on a little (think nerds on The Simpsons), and that I pull my cheeks in on my ‘S’s too much.
Now think about what that means for my drunk laugh, if even I can tell it’s bad.
Yeah.
But in general, I try to be a laughy sort of guy, so when something is actually gutbustingly funny it does send me overboard. This is a lot like other parts of my personality; people who follow my journal can tell you that when I like something, I sort of… manically like it. Like Mickey Rourke’s suits. (I can’t help it, I really do love them. I don’t care about the real reason he’s dressing like that. The fact is that to me, he looks like a guy who’s been to hell and back, is riding the wave, and is determined to make the most out of this while he can – and that includes dressing in the most amazing suits ever.)
In conclusion: go home and watch The Departed.