> When I have the occasional bad day and need to take it out on
someone, I
>don't take it out on my loved ones anymore...
>
> I got the idea one day when I was sitting at my desk and 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 Chris.
May 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
*******!" and
>hung up.
>
> I wrote his number down with the word '*******' 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 *******!"
>
> It always cheered me up.
>
> When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic '*******'
>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
>interested in 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 *******!"
>
> 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 *******, (I
had
>his number on speed dial ), I thought I had better call the BMW
*******,
>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 *******." Then I hung up, and added his number to
my
>speed dial, too.
>
> Now, when I had a problem, I had two *******s 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 ******* #1.
>
> ?Hello." "You're an *******!" (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?"
>
> "*******, 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, *******."
>
> Then I called ******* #2.
>
> "Hello?" he said.
>
> "Hello, *******," I said.
>
> He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are!"
>
> "You'll what?" I said.
>
> "I'll kick your ***," he exclaimed.
>
> I answered, "Well, *******, 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
***
>lover.
>
> Then I called Channel 2 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 *******s beating the crap out of each other in
front of
>six squad cars, a police helicopter, and a news crew.
>
> NOW, I feel better.
>
> This anger management **** really works.
> Have a great day.....hunter
someone, I
>don't take it out on my loved ones anymore...
>
> I got the idea one day when I was sitting at my desk and 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 Chris.
May 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
*******!" and
>hung up.
>
> I wrote his number down with the word '*******' 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 *******!"
>
> It always cheered me up.
>
> When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic '*******'
>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
>interested in 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 *******!"
>
> 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 *******, (I
had
>his number on speed dial ), I thought I had better call the BMW
*******,
>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 *******." Then I hung up, and added his number to
my
>speed dial, too.
>
> Now, when I had a problem, I had two *******s 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 ******* #1.
>
> ?Hello." "You're an *******!" (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?"
>
> "*******, 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, *******."
>
> Then I called ******* #2.
>
> "Hello?" he said.
>
> "Hello, *******," I said.
>
> He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are!"
>
> "You'll what?" I said.
>
> "I'll kick your ***," he exclaimed.
>
> I answered, "Well, *******, 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
***
>lover.
>
> Then I called Channel 2 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 *******s beating the crap out of each other in
front of
>six squad cars, a police helicopter, and a news crew.
>
> NOW, I feel better.
>
> This anger management **** really works.
> Have a great day.....hunter
