Dear Girl who Laughs too much in class:
I hate you. That’s really all there is to it. The professor is not that funny, and I’m sure he isn’t even flattered at this point. Your laugh is so loud, so obnoxious and nasally, it makes me sick to the stomach, an infectious cacophony of horridness. This isn’t even me trying to be funny. I’m literally using campus basement to slander you, which I’m explicitly not supposed to do.If I could file a legitimate complaint about your annoying a$$, I would.Your laugh is hideous, and it distracts everyone in class. I cringe every time the professor is even slightly sarcastic because I know I’ll be hearing an explosion of swinish giggles within the next few seconds. (Side note: you wear one of those animal hats that has strings that connect to mittens. GTFO.) My cutting over-the-shoulder stares don’t seem to faze you. I’m not surprised. You’re in your own little world, you and the professor, where you think he cares and is going to boost your grade for laughing at his quips.
There are certain times when it is ok to laugh; the teacher makes a legitimately witty remark, a student talks back to the teacher, someone bursts through the door, realizes he has entered the wrong class and leaves in awkward silence, etc. There are other times, however, when laughter is simply the improper response. If the teacher says, “and then Mary said, ‘Please, no,’” This is no time for a horrific cackle, an orchestra of spitting and screaming. Flattery becomes mockery, becomes obsession, when you laugh at everything he says regardless of its content. You spend about 70 minutes of the 90 minute class period laughing at what the professor says, and it is simply too much. I remember a few weeks ago you were the only person in the class laughing and the professor said, “I just don’t’ see how that’s funny.” Was that not clear enough? Just stop. I’m starting to have legitimate desires to hurt you physically, as is half the class. It won’t be that funny.