Anger Management

[firebrand]

hehe someone emailed me this:

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 telephone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered, saying "Hello."
I politely said, "Hi, this is Nick. Could I please speak with Robin Barber?" 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 Avenue in Hamburg. 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.

Then 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?"
"Well, Asshole, I live in Hamburg at 1802 West Avenue, 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 Hamburg police, saying that I
was on my way over to 1802 West Ave. to kill my gay lover.
Then I called Channel 7 News about the gang war going down in Hamburg.

I quickly got into my car and headed over to West Ave..
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. You know, this anger management stuff really works.

[Weasel]

heh, yeah a classic - have had that on my website for a few years - interesting to see how little details of the story change over time though.