This breed is almost as bad as the Chronic Sniffer of the Testing Center, except instead of wanting to smother him with the box of the Kleenex he so sorely needs, you just want to burn all of his belongings so he'll never have occasion to laugh again.
Not only is this specimen blessed with a laugh somewhere between a strangled goose and an emphysemic death cough, but also a need to throw it down on full blast at even the slightest pleasantry. This is especially potent when paired with either a Hardy-Har-Har Professor, or a Self-Proclaimed Wise Guy classmate. Or, (and I wouldn't wish this on even the worst BYU stereotype) a suicidal combo of all three. The Chortler usually manages to sit just in your blind spot every day of class so that the laugh is just a faceless sound until you finally give up on the stretching/scratching-glances guise and throw your shame to the wind by spinning all the way around to catch your jovial neighbor mid-chortle.
After you've unveiled The Chortler (this is usually exciting if he/she's gender/ethnicity/marital status is different than expected) you're paranoiacally looking for him/her everywhere on campus until you can’t study/eat/drink/sleep without worrying about being in the same vicinity of the chortler until finally you’re pushing a shopping cart full of all your earthly possessions and some stray cats down University Avenue muttering and chortling to yourself until Kingdom come.
Hahaha that blind spot business is so true...they always end up having faces made for radio. I have yet to experience an attractive Chortler. And the Hardy-Har-Har Prof just HAD to have been the Chortler of his own graduating class.
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