From: Gerard <mariju...@gmail.com>
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Subject: Anger management
Date: Fri, 23 Jun 2006 11:58:59 +0530
I was sitting at my desk when I remembered a phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered, saying "Hello."
I politely said, "This is Chris. Could I please speak with Robin Carter?"
Suddenly the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.
I checked Robin's correct number. I had transposed the last two digits of her phone number. 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 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'd call him up and yell, "You're an asshole!" It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic 'asshole' 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 without Caller ID Programme?"
He yelled "NO!" and slammed down the phone. 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. 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. He ignored me. Then I noticed a "For Sale" sign in his car window, so I wrote down his phone number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his number on speed dial) I thought that I'd 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's parked right out in front."
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Don Hansen."
"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 speed dial, too.
Now when I had a problem I had two assholes to call. But after several months of calling them, it wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be. So, I came 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. It's 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, 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.
"Well, asshole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."
Then I hung up and called the police. I told them I lived at 1802
West 34th Street, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.
Then I called Channel 13 News about the gang war going down on
West 34th Street.
I got into my car and headed over to 34th street, and there I saw
two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six squad cars, a police helicopter and a news crew.
NOW I feel much better.
Anger management really works.