Anger Management 101

I've received this in emails a few times and thought I'd share it with you ...


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. This is a form of anger management.

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 Robyn
Carter?"

Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right f**in
number!" and the phone was slammed down on me.

I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down
Robyn's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally
transposed the last two digits.

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 a--hole!"
and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word 'a--hole' 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 a--hole!"

It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic "a--hole
calling" would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi,
this is John Smith from Verizon. 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 a--hole!"

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, but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For
Sale" sign in his back window which included his phone number, so I
wrote down the number.

A couple of days later, right after calling the first a--hole (I had
his number on speed dial) I thought that I'd better call the BMW
a--hole, too I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"

"Yes, it is", he said.

"Can you tell me where I can see it?" I asked.

"Yes, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, in Vaucluse. 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 a--hole!" Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.

Now, when I had a problem, I had two a--holes to call. Then I came up with an idea. I called a--hole #1

"Hello."

"You're an a--hole!" (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?"

"a--hole, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, 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, a--hole," and hung up.

Then I called a--hole #2. "Hello?" he said.

"Hello, a--hole," 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, a--hole, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."

Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived
at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, and that I was on my way over there to
kill my gay lover. Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war
going down in Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse.

I quickly got into my car and headed over to Mowbray. I got there
just in time to watch two a--holes trying to beat the crap out of
each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead police helicopter
and a news crew.

NOW I feel much better.

Anger management really works.




[edit on 2/20/2006 by 12m8keall2c]

Classic! I gotta write this down and try it some day. *lmao*

I love that joke! I've read it before but it still made me crack up. I sent it to a couple of my friends.

LOVE the gag. Here's one it made me think of...

Buddy Rich was famous not just for being a tremendous swing and big band drummer.

After he passed on, one day his recently bereaved widow answered the phone.

"Is Buddy there?" asked the caller.

"No, I'm afraid he's not. He died three weeks ago."

"Oh, my condolences. I'm sorry to hear that."

Two weeks passed, and then the call came again.

Is Buddy there?" asked the caller.

Buddy's widow felt there was something familiar about the voice, but she couldn't quite place it.

"No, I'm afraid he's not. He died five weeks ago."

"Oh, my condolences. I'm sorry to hear that."

Another couple of weeks passed, and the call came again.

"Is Buddy there?" asked the caller.

"No, I'm afraid he's not. He died two months ago now... Wait! This is the same guy that keeps calling me up for Buddy, isn't it? What the hell are you up to, bothering a grieving widow? He's dead, okay? How many times?"

"Oh, I'm really sorry... I just love to hear you say it, that's all."