Post by nzfordboy on Mar 29, 2008 9:20:20 GMT 12
Are you pissed off? Take it out on someone! But don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know!
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialled it. A man answered, saying "Hello."
I politely said, "This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?"
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right f***ing number!"
And the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Robyn's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.
After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again.
When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled "You're an ass hole!" and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word 'ass hole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, "You're an ass hole!" It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic 'ass hole' calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from the telephone company. I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?"
He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone. I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an ass hole!" and hung up.
One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot.
Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been
waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his back window, so I wrote down his number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first ass hole (I had his number on speed dial), I thought that I'd better call the BMW ass hole, too. I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"
He said, "Yes, it is."
I asked, "Can you tell me where I can see it?"
He said, "Yes, I live at 34 Oak tree Blvd., in Fairfax . It's a yellow ambler, and the car's parked right out in front."
I asked, "What's your name?"
He said, "My name is Don Hansen,"
I asked, "When's a good time to catch you, Don?"
He said, "I'm home every evening after five."
I said, "Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"
He said, "Yes?"
I said, "Don, you're an ass hole!" and I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now when I had a problem, I had two ass holes to call.
Then I came up with an idea. I called ass hole #1. He said, "Hello."
I said, "You're an ass hole!" (but I didn't hang up).
He asked, "Are you still there?"
I said, "Yeah,"
He screamed, "Stop calling me,"
I said, "Make me,"
He asked, "Who are you?"
I said, "My name is Don Hansen ." He said, "Yeah? Where do you live?"
I said, "Ass hole, I live at 34 Oak tree Blvd, in Fairfax, a yellow ambler.
I have a black Beamer parked in front."
He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers."
I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, ass hole," and hung up.
Then I called Ass hole #2.
He said, "Hello?"
I said, "Hello, ass hole,"
He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."
I said, "You'll what?"
He exclaimed, "I'll kick your ass."
I answered, "Well, ass hole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34 Oak tree Blvd, in Fairfax , and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.
Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Oak tree Blvd. in Fairfax .
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Fairfax . I got there just in time to watch two ass holes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead news helicopter and surrounded by a news crew.
I feel much better (sigh). Anger management really does work.
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialled it. A man answered, saying "Hello."
I politely said, "This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robyn Carter?"
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right f***ing number!"
And the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Robyn's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.
After hanging up with her, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again.
When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled "You're an ass hole!" and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word 'ass hole' next to it, and put it in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or had a really bad day, I'd call him up and yell, "You're an ass hole!" It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic 'ass hole' calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from the telephone company. I'm calling to see if you're familiar with our Caller ID Program?"
He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone. I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an ass hole!" and hung up.
One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot.
Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I'd been
waiting for that spot, but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his back window, so I wrote down his number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first ass hole (I had his number on speed dial), I thought that I'd better call the BMW ass hole, too. I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"
He said, "Yes, it is."
I asked, "Can you tell me where I can see it?"
He said, "Yes, I live at 34 Oak tree Blvd., in Fairfax . It's a yellow ambler, and the car's parked right out in front."
I asked, "What's your name?"
He said, "My name is Don Hansen,"
I asked, "When's a good time to catch you, Don?"
He said, "I'm home every evening after five."
I said, "Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"
He said, "Yes?"
I said, "Don, you're an ass hole!" and I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now when I had a problem, I had two ass holes to call.
Then I came up with an idea. I called ass hole #1. He said, "Hello."
I said, "You're an ass hole!" (but I didn't hang up).
He asked, "Are you still there?"
I said, "Yeah,"
He screamed, "Stop calling me,"
I said, "Make me,"
He asked, "Who are you?"
I said, "My name is Don Hansen ." He said, "Yeah? Where do you live?"
I said, "Ass hole, I live at 34 Oak tree Blvd, in Fairfax, a yellow ambler.
I have a black Beamer parked in front."
He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start saying your prayers."
I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, ass hole," and hung up.
Then I called Ass hole #2.
He said, "Hello?"
I said, "Hello, ass hole,"
He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."
I said, "You'll what?"
He exclaimed, "I'll kick your ass."
I answered, "Well, ass hole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34 Oak tree Blvd, in Fairfax , and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.
Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Oak tree Blvd. in Fairfax .
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Fairfax . I got there just in time to watch two ass holes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead news helicopter and surrounded by a news crew.
I feel much better (sigh). Anger management really does work.
