Laughter Essay

We would shriek with laughter as we slid down and splashed into the pool. And even though Jason was six years younger than I was, we bonded by tormenting my sisters. We'd pretend that we were alligators and sneak up behind or even underneath my sisters, "chomp" on their legs

thing from memory. >be 14 and horny >be dating cute chick >she won’t put out unless you accept the eschatological doctrine of Chhoteling >get down on your knees in from of her >swear on the name of brahman that we are bound to destroy the world with laughter >pray for the arrival

I finished packing my bags and walked outside my house. I pulled out my good luck dragan, Benji. This will be the perfect gift to Harry, I thought. I brought my bags to the car. “Finished load up?” Harry asked. I nodded as I put my suitcase in the trunk. We walked to the front of house to exchange gifts. “Happy 5th Anniversary, Janet.” “Same to you. Here’s your gift, Harry,” I said as I pulled out Benji out of my pocket and handed it to Harry. “Cool! I love dragons, but I read that this tiny

I can still remember my joyful life with my granddad. Keeping in mind, the way he used to laugh, his big broad smile, the smell of his perfume, which he left everywhere he went. The way he used to put his family first in everything he did, not forgetting his love for the relations. However, none of those incidents will physically take place now. My blissful times with him have ended. I hate to think about him gone forever. It is upsetting. Nevertheless, he’ll never be forgotten

pronounce this character wrong? It’s been two years!” I laugh aloud at the absurdity, much to the embarrassment of my partner. “I don’t know! It’s from Chinese I, okay! Leave me alone!” Her attempt at defending herself fails as she quickly joins my laughter. I smile and pat her back. “It’s fine, Lily. You’ll fix it one day.” Our relationship began in 2016, the start of my junior year and the start of her sophomore year. We had both skipped Chinese II and moved into Chinese III. As a result, our teacher

Filled with excitement and joy I began to fill my suitcase, overloading with clothing that I most likely will not wear. A I finish my exaggerated packing I heard a thumping sound of knocks at the front door. I hurriedly squish everything and make my way to the door only to be greeted by Ely’s joyful expression. Once we manage to pack our things in the trunk we head off to the airport. Once at the airport were greeted with our growling tummies ready to devour. We have fifteen minutes before our flight

I believe in laughing and smiling. I believe in the laugh that makes your stomach hurt, the laugh that makes you cry and the laugh that makes you roll on the ground. Smiling is a powerful expression in this world. A smile is contagious and it makes you feel loved and warm inside. A small gesture like a smile can go a long way with someone. Smiling can make your day better along with someone else’s. Last year I was given the opportunity to volunteer at a local Special Olympics event, with a group

to go and I mean the thought of it a few weeks ago seemed adventurous, cool and fun. Now, I watched in horror as the bus approached the starting point of descending up the mountain. I shut my eyes tightly as I squeezed James hand. I could hear the laughter of my friends, Marissa, David, Sheila, Finn and Mike watching the stupidity of my fear. After a while, I finally opened my eyes and looked out the window despite the level we were at and my heart thumping at the thought of it I looked at the breathtaking

I was born in the war-torn country of Sudan, life there was abysmal, my family and I had to endure a hard journey filled with famine, suffering, and tragedy. When I was just at the age of eight, my house was raided by a terrorist group and my brother and sister were forcefully taken away from us. I never saw them again. The sudden loss of my brother John and sister Catherine, left a detrimental effect on all of us. Those were dark, dark days. When I was nine years old, my family turned a blind eye

Thunder rolled overhead as I stepped into the living room. Unlike most homes this day, this one was without electricity. While most of the country had accepted the 20th century with open arms, my family had stuck with the 19th. Leaving me to deal with outdated candles and fireplaces. Thunder crashed again. “The spirits are angry,” my grandma said while she rocked back and forth in her old wicker chair beside the fireplace. The floorboards creaked as she rocked making a horrible racket. She was a