Bad Day
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.Here's what one guy did. What do you

think?

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 Andrew. 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!" 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 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 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'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 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 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,

I'll . . . ."


"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 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 quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th

street.There I saw two assholes beating the crap out

of each other in front of six squad cars, a police

helicopter, and news crew.



NOW, I feel better!
(Anger Management at it's very best.)