Therapy
For all of you who 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 had
forgotten to make. I found the number, and dialed it. A man answered
saying, "Hello?"
I politely said, "This is Fred Hanifin, 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 tracked down Robin's correct number, and called her. (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 just calling to see if you're familiar with the caller
ID program?" He yelled, "NO!" and slammed the phone down. I quickly
called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole!" So, one
day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot.
Some boy 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 had been
waiting for the spot The idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale"
sign in his car window, so I wrote down his number. A couple of days
later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his number on
speed dial), Thought I had better call the BMW asshole, too. I dialed
and someone said, "Hello?" 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 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?"Â:censor: 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, a yellow house with my black
Beemer our 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 1802 West 34th Street, and 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 quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th St. There, I saw
two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of 6 squad
cars, a police helicopter, and news crew.
Now, I feel better.
Have a great day!
Thanks!
For all of you who 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 had
forgotten to make. I found the number, and dialed it. A man answered
saying, "Hello?"
I politely said, "This is Fred Hanifin, 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 tracked down Robin's correct number, and called her. (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 just calling to see if you're familiar with the caller
ID program?" He yelled, "NO!" and slammed the phone down. I quickly
called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole!" So, one
day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking spot.
Some boy 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 had been
waiting for the spot The idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale"
sign in his car window, so I wrote down his number. A couple of days
later, right after calling the first asshole (I had his number on
speed dial), Thought I had better call the BMW asshole, too. I dialed
and someone said, "Hello?" 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 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?"Â:censor: 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, a yellow house with my black
Beemer our 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 1802 West 34th Street, and 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 quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th St. There, I saw
two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of 6 squad
cars, a police helicopter, and news crew.
Now, I feel better.
Have a great day!
Thanks!
