thcri
Gone But Not Forgotten
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. It all started 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 Dan. May I
> please speak with Mark?"
> Suddenly, the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that
> anyone could be so rude.
>
> I tracked down Mark's correct number and called him. I had transposed
> the last two digits of her phone number. After hanging up with him,
> Idecided 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 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 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 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 asshole (I had
> hi s number on speed dial), I thought I had 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 34! th Stree t. It's a yellow house, and the
> car's parked right out in front."
> "What's your name?"
> "My name is Don Burgemeyer," 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 screamed back.
> "Who are you?" he demanded.
> "My name is Don Burgemeyer."
> "Yeah? Where do you live?"
> "I live at 1802 West 34th Street, ASSHOLE! It's a yellow house, with
> my black beemer parked in front."
> He said, "I'm coming over there 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...again, without hanging up.
> He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are!"
> "Yeah, 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 imme diately called the police, saying that I
> ived at 802 West 34th Street, and that I was on my way home to kill my
> gay lover.
>
> Then I called Channel 4 News to let them know about the 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 better.
Anger management really works!
> it out on someone, don't take it out on someone you know, take it out
> on
> someone you don't know. It all started 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 Dan. May I
> please speak with Mark?"
> Suddenly, the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that
> anyone could be so rude.
>
> I tracked down Mark's correct number and called him. I had transposed
> the last two digits of her phone number. After hanging up with him,
> Idecided 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 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 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 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 asshole (I had
> hi s number on speed dial), I thought I had 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 34! th Stree t. It's a yellow house, and the
> car's parked right out in front."
> "What's your name?"
> "My name is Don Burgemeyer," 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 screamed back.
> "Who are you?" he demanded.
> "My name is Don Burgemeyer."
> "Yeah? Where do you live?"
> "I live at 1802 West 34th Street, ASSHOLE! It's a yellow house, with
> my black beemer parked in front."
> He said, "I'm coming over there 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...again, without hanging up.
> He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are!"
> "Yeah, 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 imme diately called the police, saying that I
> ived at 802 West 34th Street, and that I was on my way home to kill my
> gay lover.
>
> Then I called Channel 4 News to let them know about the 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 better.
Anger management really works!
