G
Guest
Guest
I just got an email that made me laugh so hard I had to gasp for breath. (enough with the repirator jokes) I wanted to share it with you and at the end of it, why don't you come up with a creative way of dealing with your anger? This is just perfection. I appologise ahead of time if you have already seen this but really, its worth a re-read.
v~
Anger Management
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 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 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 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
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. 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,) 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.
"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..."
"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 a news crew.
NOW I feel much better. Anger management really works.
Live today to its fullest
v~
Anger Management
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 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 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 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
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. 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,) 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.
"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..."
"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 a news crew.
NOW I feel much better. Anger management really works.
Live today to its fullest
