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 phone call I'd forgotten to make. I dialed what I thought was Emily's number.
A man answered saying, "Hello?"
I politely said, "This is Matt. May I please speak with Emily?"
Suddenly, a manic voice yelled out in my ear, "There's no Emily here... Get the right fucking number!"... and the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude!!!
When I tracked down Emily'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 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 was introduced, I thought my therapeutic "asshole calling" would have to stop. So... I called his number and said, "Hi, this is Ron White 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 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, 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 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!" he said.
"Can you tell me where I can see it?" I asked.
"Yes, I live at 42 Chelsea Blvd in Jackson. It's a blue house, and the car's parked right out in front."
"What's your name?" I asked. "My name is Michael Gibson," he said.
"When's a good time to catch you, Mike?"
"I'm home every evening after five."
"Listen, Mike... Can I tell you something?"
"Yes?"
"Mike, you're an asshole!"... Then I hung up, and I added his number to my speed dial. Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call!
Then I came up with an idea... I called Asshole number one. "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 Michael Gibson!"
"Yeah? Where do you live?"
"Asshole, I live at 42 Chelsea Blvd, Jackson, a blue house, with my black Beamer parked in front."
He said, "I'm coming over right now, Michael... And you had better start saying your prayers!"
I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, Asshole!"... and hung up.
Then I called Asshole number 2. "Hello?" he said.
"Hello, Asshole!" I said.
He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are%u2026"
"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 42 Chelsea Blvd, Jackson, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover...
Then I called Channel 3 News about the gang war going on down in Chelsea Blvd, Jackson...
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Chelsea. I got there just in time to watch the two assholes beating the holy hell out of each other in front of eight cop cars, an overhead police helicopter, and a large news crew.
NOW I feel MUCH better...
Anger Management really works!!!
