Anger Management (I'm not going to correct the mistakes, you get the drift)
When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it outon someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know.It all started one day when I was sitting at my desk and remembered aphone call I had forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it. A mananswered, saying, "Hello." I politely said, "This is Chris. May I please speakwith Robin Carter? " Suddenly, the phone was slammed down on me.I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. I had transposed thelast two digits of her phone number. After hanging up with her, I decided tocall the 'wrong' number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled,"You're an asshole!" and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word'asshole' 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'dcall him up and yell, "You're an asshole!" It always cheered me up. WhenCaller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic 'asshole' calling wouldhave to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith fromthe Telephone Company. I'm just calling to see if you're interested in theCaller ID program?" He yelled, "NO!" and slammed the phone down.I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole!"One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Someguy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patientlywaited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I had been waiting for the spot.The idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his car window, so Iwrote down his number.A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole, ( I had hisnumber on speed dial ), I thought I had better call the BMW asshole, too.I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?""Yes, it is.""Can you tell me where I can see it?""Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house, and the car'sparked 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 asshole." Then I hung up, and added his number to my speeddial, too. Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call. But afterseveral months of calling them, it wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be. So, Icame up with an idea. I called Asshole #1."Hello.""You're an asshole!" (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?""Asshole, I live at 1802 West 34th Street, a yellow house, with my blackBeamer 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, asshole."Then I called Asshole #2."Hello?" he said."Hello, asshole," I said.He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are!""You'll what?" I said."I'll kick your ass," he exclaimed.I answered, "Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 1802West 34th Street, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.Then I called Channel 3 News about the gang war going down on West 34th. Street.I quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th street. There I saw twoassholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six squad cars, apolice helicopter, and a news crew.
NOW, I feel better. Anger management really works.
When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to take it outon someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out on someone you don't know.It all started one day when I was sitting at my desk and remembered aphone call I had forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it. A mananswered, saying, "Hello." I politely said, "This is Chris. May I please speakwith Robin Carter? " Suddenly, the phone was slammed down on me.I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.I tracked down Robin's correct number and called her. I had transposed thelast two digits of her phone number. After hanging up with her, I decided tocall the 'wrong' number again. When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled,"You're an asshole!" and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word'asshole' 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'dcall him up and yell, "You're an asshole!" It always cheered me up. WhenCaller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic 'asshole' calling wouldhave to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith fromthe Telephone Company. I'm just calling to see if you're interested in theCaller ID program?" He yelled, "NO!" and slammed the phone down.I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole!"One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot. Someguy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had patientlywaited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I had been waiting for the spot.The idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his car window, so Iwrote down his number.A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole, ( I had hisnumber on speed dial ), I thought I had better call the BMW asshole, too.I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?""Yes, it is.""Can you tell me where I can see it?""Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house, and the car'sparked 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 asshole." Then I hung up, and added his number to my speeddial, too. Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call. But afterseveral months of calling them, it wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be. So, Icame up with an idea. I called Asshole #1."Hello.""You're an asshole!" (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?""Asshole, I live at 1802 West 34th Street, a yellow house, with my blackBeamer 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, asshole."Then I called Asshole #2."Hello?" he said."Hello, asshole," I said.He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are!""You'll what?" I said."I'll kick your ass," he exclaimed.I answered, "Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 1802West 34th Street, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.Then I called Channel 3 News about the gang war going down on West 34th. Street.I quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th street. There I saw twoassholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six squad cars, apolice helicopter, and a news crew.
NOW, I feel better. Anger management really works.