Help, I Can't Stop Laughing!: A Nonstop Collection of Life's Funniest Stories [NOOK Book]

Overview

But be forewarned, once you start, you may not be able to stop! Help, I Can’t Stop Laughing! offers a collection of nonstop fun, foibles, and rib-tickling humor for those who know that laughter is the best medicine.

Contributors like Barbara Johnson, Martha Bolton, Mark Lowry, Patsy Clairmont, Becky Freeman, and Chonda Pierce share their most hilarious and embarrassing ...
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Help, I Can't Stop Laughing!: A Nonstop Collection of Life's Funniest Stories

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Overview

But be forewarned, once you start, you may not be able to stop! Help, I Can’t Stop Laughing! offers a collection of nonstop fun, foibles, and rib-tickling humor for those who know that laughter is the best medicine.

Contributors like Barbara Johnson, Martha Bolton, Mark Lowry, Patsy Clairmont, Becky Freeman, and Chonda Pierce share their most hilarious and embarrassing moments to remind you that God’s love and a little laughter will keep you smiling no matter what curves life throws you.

This cheerful collection of quips, stories, anecdotes, and quotes offers a continual source of refreshment in the midst of life’s struggles and stresses. Let the laughter begin!
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780310319511
  • Publisher: Zondervan
  • Publication date: 11/11/2008
  • Sold by: Zondervan Publishing
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 256
  • Sales rank: 308,134
  • File size: 651 KB

Meet the Author

Ann Spangler is an award-winning writer and the author of many bestselling books, including Praying the Names of God, Praying the Names of Jesus, and The One Year Devotions for Women. She is also coauthor of Women of the Bible and Sitting at the Feet of Rabbi Jesus and the general editor of the Names of God Bible. Ann’s fascination with and love of Scripture have resulted in books that have opened the Bible to a wide range of readers. She and her two daughters live in Grand Rapids, Michigan.


Website: http://www.annspangler.com/


Blog: http://www.annspangler.com/category/blog/


Shari MacDonald is the author of numerous Christian novels, coauthor of such titles as "The Creative Memories® Way", and compiler of several humor compilations, including "Humor for a Mom’s Heart". She and her husband, live in Portland, Oregon with their twin sons.
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Read an Excerpt

Help, I Can't Stop Laughing!

A Nonstop Collection of Life's Funniest Stories
By Ann Spangler Shari MacDonald

Zondervan

Copyright © 2006 Ann Spangler
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0-310-25954-1


Chapter One


If Image Were Everything, We'd Be in Big Trouble

Honest criticism is hard to take, particularly from a relative, a friend, an acquaintance, or a stranger. - Franklin P. Jones

I refuse to think of them as chin hairs. I think of them as stray eyebrows. - Janette Barber

Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society. - Mark Twain


Wild Mama Rachael Phillips


* * *

Sleeping in - an unknown luxury, a fairy-tale fantasy that inevitably dissolved in a shower of Cheerios and the wiggles and jiggles and messy, precious kisses of my preschoolers. Sleeping in existed in a different solar system - or perhaps in a different galaxy far, far away.

But those thoughts evaporated as I lay in a bed I wouldn't have to make, savoring the ecstasy of a quiet - yes, quiet - sixteenth-story hotel room. My husband had already left for his conference, and I indulged in forbidden pleasures: a cup of real coffee (double cream) in bed, steaming hot from the first mellow sip to the very last; a television program in which most people already knew how to count to ten; and a long, sinful bath filled to the top, with no Mr. Bubble or rubber duckies in sight.

After bathing, I ignored my ratty plaid bathrobe hanging on the hook. I didn't decide what to wear. Instead, I wandered around the room, carefree and content as Eve in the Garden of Eden, unhampered by diaper bags, car seats, nap times, or must-have blankies. I pondered how I would spend an entire day without children or Happy Meals. Intoxicated with my liberty, I forgot my mother's advice to always close the drapes and faced the room-sized picture windows. The panoramic view of city streets and smaller buildings far below dazzled my eyes, my soul. Embracing the endless azure sky, I sang, "I'm free! Free!"

"Chuk-chuk-chuk-chuk-chuk!" A dragonfly the size of a sixties Cadillac suddenly hovered by the window. I hit the floor as if attacked by enemy fire, yanking the bedspread (too late!) across my naked, prostrate form. The traffic helicopter pilot waved. Then he and his mighty machine swept off to corners of the universe where other derelict mothers in need of reform might lurk.

I pulled the blanket over my head and groaned. Mortification stuffed my throat like a giant spoonful of crunchy peanut butter. I felt a hot strawberry flush from my toes to my eyebrows. Not counting God, only my husband and my doctor had seen me in the buff; now a nameless helicopter pilot in Cleveland shared that ... er ... privilege.

Him and who else? I grabbed my heart and my ratty plaid bathrobe and edged toward the window. Praise be. No Blue Angel precision jet formations screaming into view, scouting for the Miss Thunder Thighs competition. I closed the drapes, then donned a pair of khakis and my highest-necked sweater. I started my makeup routine. No blush needed today!

I didn't dare turn the radio on as usual. Couldn't bear to think of that friendly pilot's nine o'clock traffic report. "Great view over the city," he'd say. "Why, I can see clear to next Tuesday. No accidents downtown, but hey, cover up - er, buckle up! - for safety, and slow down for those curves!"

Or maybe he'd give a few cute weather tips: "Sunny, but chilly. Dress in layers. At least one."

(Continues...)



Excerpted from Help, I Can't Stop Laughing! by Ann Spangler Shari MacDonald Copyright © 2006 by Ann Spangler. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Table of Contents

Contents
Preface / 11
Chapter One: If Image Were Everything, We’d Be in Big Trouble
Wild Mama by Rachael Phillips / 15
Maybe They’re Just Young at Heart by David L. Reese / 17
The Truth Hurts by Various Authors / 18
Adorable, Schmorable! by Julie Ann Barnhill / 19
Oh, Baby! by Rachael Phillips / 22
“Pledging” Her Love by Michele Howe / 24
The Spitting Preacher by Mark Lowry / 25
People in Glass Houses... by Connie Pettersen / 27
Chapter Two: Church Chuckles
I Just Dropped Back In to Mention One Last Thing / 31
by Brandon Moody
Bulletin Bloopers by Anonymous / 32
Fuel for Faith by Dan Clark / 34
To Tell the Truth by Gracie Malone / 35
Distracted by Mark Buchanan / 36
What Do They Say When They’re Playing “House”? / 37
by Kathleen Eakin
We’re More Divided Than We Thought by Anonymous / 38
Church Feuds by Anonymous / 39
Laughter Isn’t the Only Thing That’s Contagious / 40
by Clara Null
We Thought It Was the Holy Spirit by Harry Grob / 41
“Dear Lord...” by Anonymous / 42
Chapter Three: Fun with Furry and Feathered
(Even Scaly and Creepy) Friends
Kitty Flight by Anonymous / 45
Where Did Mama Go? by Karen Scalf Linamen / 46
Dogs and Cats by Anonymous / 49
The Well by Anonymous / 51
Rules for Cats by Anonymous / 52
Unwelcome Guests by Mark Buchanan / 54
The Difference between Dogs and Cats by John Ortberg / 57
Dead Duck by John William Smith / 58
Chapter Four: Just for Kicks and Giggles
Funny Bumper Stickers by Anonymous / 63
Speeding by Anonymous / 64
How to Get Time Off from Work by Anonymous / 66
Insurance Claims --- Short Responses by Anonymous / 67
Kids and Science by Anonymous / 68
Things You’d Rather Not Hear During Surgery / 69
by Anonymous
True Comments from Actual Employee Performance Reviews / 70
by Anonymous
Chapter Five: The Mind Is a Terrible Thing to Waste
“Mentalpause” by Mary Pierce / 73
He Could Have Just Said, “And Now, Ladies, Praise . . .” / 79
by John Ortberg
A Gentle Answer by Marsha Marks / 81
Living at Geriatric Junction by Barbara Johnson / 82
Prayers of a Passenger by Barbara Johnson / 85
Chapter Six: It’s All in How You Look at It (and Laugh at It)
Deception in the Perception by Gwendolyn Mitchell Diaz / 89
Let’s Face It by Marilyn Meberg / 91
Don’t Push the Button by Patsy Clairmont / 93
Truck-Stop Rose by Chonda Pierce / 94
Plane Perception by Dan Clark / 97
If You’re Happy and You Know It...by Barbara Johnson / 98
Ghost Story by Anonymous / 99
Chapter Seven: Kid Stuff
The Toddler’s Diet by Anonymous / 103
Things I’ve Learned from My Children by Anonymous / 105
Keeping Her Focus by Arnell Arntessoni / 107
Alterations by Hester Jones / 108
When Laughter Stings by Mark Twain / 109
Are We There Yet? by Martha Bolton / 111
Labor Intensive by Shirley Clutter / 113
It’s Been an Even Busier Week Than He Thought / 114
by Stella Ward Whitlock
Side by Side by Sharon K. / 115
Church Kids by Various Authors / 116
Chapter Eight: Dad’s a Hoot!
Laughing Matters by Phil Callaway / 121
The Car of My Schemes by Dave Meurer / 122
While You Were Away by Anonymous / 125
Alien Impostor Boys by Dave Meurer / 126
Like Father, Like Son by Reverend Ronald B. Hughes / 130
What a Character! by Dave Meurer / 131
Easy-to-Clobber by John Ortberg / 133
Too Many Questions by Brenda Nixon / 134
Chapter Nine: Mom’s Always Good for a Laugh
Pick Your Battles . . . Veeery Carefully by Julie Ann Barnhill / 137
A Mother-Mortification Moment by Marti Attoun / 138
Sprinkles of Grace by Carol Kuykendall / 140
Heir-Conditioning by Barbara Johnson / 142
Check, Please! by Marti Attoun / 144
The Strong-Willed Mother by Kim Wier / 146
Attention, Children: The Bathroom Door Is Closed! / 148
by Becky Freeman
Injured Innocence by Mark Twain / 149
A Mother Can’t Help Worrying by Mark Twain / 150
Chapter Ten: Adventures in Matrimony
Nuptial Humor by Various Authors / 153
Mom’s Last Laugh by Robin Lee Shope / 157
Get on Your Trike and Ride by Ken Davis / 159
Chapter Eleven: Laughter: The Secret to a Good Marriage
Oops! by William Ritner / 163
She’s
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First Chapter

Help, I Can't Stop Laughing!

Honest criticism is hard to take, particularly from a relative,
a friend, an acquaintance, or a stranger.
--- Franklin P. Jones
I refuse to think of them as chin hairs.
I think of them as stray eyebrows.
--- Janette Barber
Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.
--- Mark Twain
If Image Were Everything,
We'd Be in Big Trouble

Wild Mama
Rachael Phillips
Sleeping in --- an unknown luxury, a fairy-tale fantasy that inevitably dissolved in a shower of Cheerios and the wiggles and jiggles and messy, precious kisses of my preschoolers. Sleeping in existed in a different solar system --- or perhaps in a different galaxy far, far away.
But those thoughts evaporated as I lay in a bed I wouldn't have to make, savoring the ecstasy of a quiet --- yes, quiet --- sixteenth story hotel room. My husband had already left for his conference,
and I indulged in forbidden pleasures: a cup of real coffee (double cream) in bed, steaming hot from the first mellow sip to the very last; a television program in which most people already knew how to count to ten; and a long, sinful bath filled to the top, with no Mr.
Bubble or rubber duckies in sight.
After bathing, I ignored my ratty plaid bathrobe hanging on the hook. I didn't decide what to wear. Instead, I wandered around the room, carefree and content as Eve in the Garden of Eden, unhampered by diaper bags, car seats, nap times, or must-have blankies.
I pondered how I would spend an entire day without children or
Happy Meals. Intoxicated with my liberty, I forgot my mother's advice to always close the drapes and faced the room-sized picture windows. The panoramic view of city streets and smaller buildings far below dazzled my eyes, my soul. Embracing the endless azure sky, I sang, 'I'm free! Free!'
'Chuk-chuk-chuk-chuk-chuk!' A dragonfly the size of a sixties
Cadillac suddenly hovered by the window. I hit the floor as if attacked by enemy fire, yanking the bedspread (too late!) across my naked, prostrate form. The traffic helicopter pilot waved. Then he and his mighty machine swept off to corners of the universe where other derelict mothers in need of reform might lurk.
I pulled the blanket over my head and groaned. Mortification stuffed my throat like a giant spoonful of crunchy peanut butter. I
felt a hot strawberry flush from my toes to my eyebrows. Not counting
God, only my husband and my doctor had seen me in the buff;
now a nameless helicopter pilot in Cleveland shared that...er...privilege.
Him and who else? I grabbed my heart and my ratty plaid bathrobe and edged toward the window. Praise be. No Blue Angel precision jet formations screaming into view, scouting for the Miss Thunder
Thighs competition. I closed the drapes, then donned a pair of khakis and my highest-necked sweater. I started my makeup routine.
No blush needed today!
I didn't dare turn the radio on as usual. Couldn't bear to think of that friendly pilot's nine o'clock traffic report. 'Great view over the city,' he'd say. 'Why, I can see clear to next Tuesday. No accidents downtown, but hey, cover up --- er, buckle up! --- for safety, and slow down for those curves!'
Or maybe he'd give a few cute weather tips: 'Sunny, but chilly.
Dress in layers. At least one.'

Read More Show Less

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