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