Regardless of their outward appearance, being a funny dude is the' milkshake (jokes) that will forever bring all the girls to the yard. It's just something about slapping a guy on the shoulder and throwing your head back to let out a boisterous, almost snorting laugh. #ahfuntimes

I don't know everything, but I do know more people would rather laugh than cry, and others laugh, so they don't cry. Either way, many people stand by the belief that laughter is like medicine to the soul. 

As a kid, I've always been told to stop grinning like an ole chessy-cat. My brother could say moo, and I'd be keeling over like he was the headliner of the original Kings of Comedy. But as I got older, laughter became my defence mechanism, bursting out at the most inopportune times, causing me to come across as silly rather than nervous. 

Other times, I could type 'LOL' eleventeen million times in a day and never crack a smile. During those pretentious spells, I found myself watching hours of comedic specials to pull myself out of a mental funk. I would pop jokes like emotional ibuprofen, and just like the actual drug, the high of that good old chuckle wore off rather quickly.

It is common to laugh out of shock or disbelief, as well as out of amazement or joy. Naturally, I asked myself, exactly how long does laughter's medicinal benefits last? Is it a be-all, end-all cure, or is it a temporary fix to mask how we truly feel? Realistically, how much laughter does one need to erase what may feel like a lifetime of getting the messy end of the stick?