dorrenchen wrote:
For all of you who 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 had forgotten to make. I found the number,
and dialed it.

A man answered saying,"Hello?"

I politely said, "This is Fred Hanifin, 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.

He'd answer and I'd 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!"

So, 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 the phone number.

A couple of days later, right after calling the
first asshole (I had his number on speed dial), I
thought I had better call the BMW asshole, too.

I dialed and someone said, "Hello?" I said, "Is this
the man with the black BMW for sale?"

" Yes it is."

"Can I come by to see it?"

"Sure, I'm at 1802 West 34th Street. A yellow
house and the car's parked right out front."

"What's your name?" I asked.

"My name is Don Hansen," he said.

"When's a good time to come by, Don?"

"Anytime 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 a new idea:

I called Asshole #1.

"Hello"

"You're an asshole!" (But I didn't hang up.)

"Are you still there?" he asked.

"Yep," I said.

"Stop calling me," he screamed

"Make me," I said.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Don Hansen."

"Yeah? Why don't we meet in person?"

"OK Asshole, I live at 1802 West 34th Street, a yellow
house with my black BMW out front."

He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. You ready to
get your ass kicked?"

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 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 6 squad cars, a police
helicopter, and news crew.

Now, I really feel better!